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 Chad and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Excepter to the dance 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minnie Riperton,
Trumans Water,
Thompson Twins,
Derrick Morgan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
Mandrill,
Yellowson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
ABBA,
Yazoo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Sherman,
Mantronix,
Bobby Womack,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eddi Front,
Camberwell Now,
Ohio Players,
Jandek,
the Sonics,
Brass Construction,
Ituana,
Flash Fearless,
Subhumans,
Gichy Dan,
Ice-T,
Unwound,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Bananas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Charles Mingus,
Nirvana,
New Age Steppers,
Robert Wyatt,
The Happenings,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Music Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Schoolly D,
Jeff Lynne,
Mr. Review,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Tremeloes,
Eurythmics,
Y Pants,
Quadrant,
The Beau Brummels,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fall,
Chris Corsano,
The Fortunes,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.