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 Solomon Islands and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Darondo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Dead Boys,
The Five Americans,
The Modern Lovers,
Cybotron,
Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Con Funk Shun,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nas,
Alphaville,
Hardrive,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Standells,
Chrome,
La Düsseldorf,
PIL,
Bill Wells,
T. Rex,
Bizarre Inc.,
Morten Harket,
Parry Music,
Quadrant,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-102,
Blake Baxter,
The Gladiators,
Urselle,
Wally Richardson,
Smog,
The Gun Club,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pulsallama,
Desert Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Absolute Body Control,
Bush Tetras,
Fear,
The Stooges,
Sam Rivers,
UT,
Au Pairs,
Banda Bassotti,
Lakeside,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cure,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Coltrane,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
Mr. Review,
Joyce Sims,
Eden Ahbez,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Panda Bear,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Association,
Sarah Menescal,
The Velvet Underground,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.