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 Cameroon and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ralphi Rosario to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arab on Radar,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
the Sonics,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pulsallama,
Urselle,
Sight & Sound,
The Wake,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Music Machine,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Infiniti,
Ornette Coleman,
Camberwell Now,
Subhumans,
Arcadia,
Erasure,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sarah Menescal,
Zero Boys,
Section 25,
The Blackbyrds,
Marshall Jefferson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Blues Magoos,
Television Personalities,
the Swans,
Symarip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Circle Jerks,
Stiv Bators,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fuzztones,
F. McDonald,
Lower 48,
Howard Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roxette,
Minutemen,
Mad Mike,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sugar Minott,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amazonics,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
CMW,
Livin' Joy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roy Ayers,
Aaron Thompson,
Nils Olav,
The Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.