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 Macedonia and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Last Poets to the disco 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David Bowie,
Audionom,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Massinfluence,
B.T. Express,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare,
The Leaves,
Goldenarms,
Tom Boy,
Guru Guru,
Crime,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dennis Brown,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sight & Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Donald Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
Infiniti,
Delta 5,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minutemen,
The Zeros,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Slits,
Supertramp,
The Monks,
The Skatalites,
Kurtis Blow,
Magazine,
The Barracudas,
Kenny Larkin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Dirtbombs,
Franke,
Quantec,
Sex Pistols,
The Remains,
T.S.O.L.,
Josef K,
Brand Nubian,
Organ,
David McCallum,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The New Christs,
Symarip,
Peter and Kerry,
The J.B.'s,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rotary Connection,
Ronnie Foster,
The Victims,
The Vogues,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moss Icon,
Blake Baxter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.