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 Cyprus and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
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 organ 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 Peter & Gordon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Trumans Water,
Mr. Review,
Adolescents,
Duran Duran,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Görl,
Dorothy Ashby,
Masters at Work,
Fela Kuti,
Andrew Hill,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Zapp,
The Gun Club,
The New Christs,
The Toasters,
The Vogues,
The Beau Brummels,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Cale,
David Axelrod,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Underground Resistance,
Swans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Accadde A,
Delta 5,
X-Ray Spex,
The Raincoats,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joyce Sims,
Mandrill,
Malaria!,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Johnny Clarke,
Connie Case,
Urselle,
Khruangbin,
Kas Product,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Count Five,
The Barracudas,
Amon Düül II,
Arcadia,
Absolute Body Control,
Symarip,
The Buckinghams,
Silicon Teens,
June Days,
Altered Images,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Porter Ricks,
Pussy Galore,
Sparks,
Von Mondo,
Quando Quango,
Brick,
Guru Guru,
Rod Modell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.