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 Korea South and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide 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 Agitation Free to the rock 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Velvet Underground,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mo-Dettes,
Monolake,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
World's Most,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Maleditus Sound,
Radiohead,
Mandrill,
The Star Department,
Archie Shepp,
PIL,
The Count Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Pretty Things,
Barclay James Harvest,
cv313,
Khruangbin,
Crooked Eye,
The Dirtbombs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Robert Hood,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
Pulsallama,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blancmange,
Ten City,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
Buzzcocks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Panda Bear,
Ash Ra Tempel,
David McCallum,
Black Sheep,
David Bowie,
Joey Negro,
Jawbox,
Dead Boys,
Slick Rick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Royal Trux,
Monks,
The Names,
Niagra,
Wally Richardson,
the Bar-Kays,
Mark Hollis,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Sound,
The Gladiators,
The Victims,
Yellowson,
Tubeway Army,
The Beau Brummels,
Wire,
Faust,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.