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 Belgium and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ten City to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ice-T,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mr. Review,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Foxx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiohead,
One Last Wish,
The Evens,
The Wake,
Man Eating Sloth,
Theoretical Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Guru Guru,
Rosa Yemen,
This Heat,
Excepter,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hasil Adkins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blossom Toes,
The Raincoats,
Minor Threat,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
World's Most,
Banda Bassotti,
Cecil Taylor,
John Cale,
Ohio Players,
The Monks,
Television Personalities,
Metal Thangz,
Yazoo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smiths,
Agitation Free,
Minnie Riperton,
Derrick Morgan,
La Düsseldorf,
Lightning Bolt,
Essential Logic,
The Happenings,
June of 44,
Bobby Sherman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sister Nancy,
James White and The Blacks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Suburban Knight,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
Junior Murvin,
Moby Grape,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.