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 Bhutan and from Tokyo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Swans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Juan Atkins,
Urselle,
Hoover,
Minor Threat,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eve St. Jones,
Ronan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Whodini,
Deepchord,
Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Eric Copeland,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shuggie Otis,
Buzzcocks,
Suburban Knight,
The Move,
Erasure,
Tim Buckley,
Infiniti,
Icehouse,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Star Department,
The Smiths,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cluster,
Accadde A,
Amon Düül II,
Mo-Dettes,
Radio Birdman,
Dawn Penn,
Kenny Larkin,
Roger Hodgson,
Moss Icon,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chrome,
PIL,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gories,
Moebius,
The Buckinghams,
Slave,
Joyce Sims,
Morten Harket,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joy Division,
48th St. Collective,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monochrome Set,
Wasted Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blossom Toes,
Bang On A Can,
Barbara Tucker,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.