Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Equatorial Guinea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eric Copeland to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Scrapy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sarah Menescal,
Country Teasers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Howard Jones,
Toni Rubio,
Oblivians,
Skaos,
The Invisible,
Los Fastidios,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ice-T,
Sugar Minott,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
Popol Vuh,
Heaven 17,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Maleditus Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
A Certain Ratio,
Silicon Teens,
The Litter,
Visage,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pole,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mad Mike,
Cecil Taylor,
Pantytec,
Soft Machine,
Deepchord,
The Standells,
the Normal,
Sight & Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grandmaster Flash,
Funkadelic,
Oneida,
Dark Day,
The Cowsills,
Quando Quango,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pylon,
Reuben Wilson,
The Trojans,
The Walker Brothers,
Fad Gadget,
John Foxx,
Black Flag,
Hoover,
Moss Icon,
Television Personalities,
Iggy Pop,
The Real Kids,
Eddi Front,
Organ,
Loose Ends,
The Mojo Men,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.