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 Swaziland and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Barrington Levy to the grime 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Divine Comedy,
Alphaville,
The Mummies,
Clear Light,
Gong,
FM Einheit,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zapp,
Sällskapet,
Smog,
Dead Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Durutti Column,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marine Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
The New Christs,
Quantec,
Erasure,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Copeland,
Albert Ayler,
the Slits,
Newcleus,
Jerry's Kids,
Mission of Burma,
Adolescents,
Wings,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Colin Newman,
Spandau Ballet,
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cluster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harmonia,
Stereo Dub,
June of 44,
Livin' Joy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Martian,
Man Parrish,
The Red Krayola,
Skaos,
The Grass Roots,
Kaleidoscope,
Ken Boothe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pere Ubu,
Hoover,
Brass Construction,
Patti Smith,
The Buckinghams,
Glenn Branca,
Can,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.