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 Morocco and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Last Poets to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Ohio Players,
The Toasters,
Prince Buster,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Cale,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Youth Brigade,
The Invisible,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
Cecil Taylor,
Lower 48,
Grey Daturas,
cv313,
Whodini,
Basic Channel,
Pagans,
Masters at Work,
Panda Bear,
The Martian,
The Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Neon Judgement,
Cluster,
The Tremeloes,
Mars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oneida,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Surgeon,
The Black Dice,
48th St. Collective,
The Dead C,
The Skatalites,
Lalo Schifrin,
Au Pairs,
Brass Construction,
Yazoo,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Normal,
Suburban Knight,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dave Gahan,
Q and Not U,
Al Stewart,
Bootsy Collins,
Index,
Dennis Brown,
Sam Rivers,
The Offenders,
Saccharine Trust,
Gabor Szabo,
The Happenings,
Charles Mingus,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.