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 Micronesia and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Minutemen to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Man Parrish,
Swans,
David Bowie,
Malaria!,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
Infiniti,
Bad Manners,
Gabor Szabo,
The United States of America,
Glenn Branca,
The Techniques,
Buzzcocks,
Bluetip,
Cheater Slicks,
Jandek,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wasted Youth,
Goldenarms,
Wolf Eyes,
Mad Mike,
Sam Rivers,
Yazoo,
The Star Department,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Human League,
Black Moon,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
T. Rex,
Bootsy Collins,
K-Klass,
Motorama,
Amon Düül II,
Altered Images,
Liliput,
Model 500,
Aswad,
OOIOO,
Amon Düül,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Crooked Eye,
Camberwell Now,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Peter and Kerry,
Cecil Taylor,
Half Japanese,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joy Division,
Porter Ricks,
Monolake,
The Leaves,
Yusef Lateef,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Cell,
The American Breed,
U.S. Maple,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.