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 Costa Rica and from Columbus.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fela Kuti to the grime 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Roger Hodgson,
Echospace,
Erasure,
Henry Cow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Schoolly D,
Sun City Girls,
The Kinks,
Gabor Szabo,
R.M.O.,
a-ha,
Livin' Joy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter and Kerry,
Organ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Foxx,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Desert Stars,
Swell Maps,
Fugazi,
Soft Cell,
Janne Schatter,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Finger,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vainqueur,
Qualms,
The Cowsills,
Popol Vuh,
The Cure,
Morten Harket,
Radiohead,
Nirvana,
Sandy B,
The Gun Club,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fad Gadget,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalann,
Graham Central Station,
Archie Shepp,
The Moody Blues,
The Human League,
Los Fastidios,
Mantronix,
Barry Ungar,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joey Negro,
Yazoo,
Goldenarms,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Christie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Judy Mowatt,
The Misunderstood,
The Red Krayola,
Y Pants,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.