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 Burundi and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
OOIOO,
Wally Richardson,
Y Pants,
The Fugs,
the Human League,
Babytalk,
Saccharine Trust,
Erykah Badu,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
Blake Baxter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Whodini,
Minny Pops,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Style,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Tears for Fears,
Brick,
Nick Fraelich,
Livin' Joy,
John Coltrane,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
Infiniti,
Eve St. Jones,
Mark Hollis,
Donald Byrd,
Bush Tetras,
The Seeds,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Slackers,
DNA,
Youth Brigade,
Banda Bassotti,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Funkadelic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Basic Channel,
Theoretical Girls,
Dark Day,
The Happenings,
The Modern Lovers,
Loose Ends,
Qualms,
The Names,
F. McDonald,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chris & Cosey,
Susan Cadogan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Connie Case,
The Associates,
Gong,
Excepter,
Sound Behaviour,
Khruangbin,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.