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 Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Silicon Teens to the techno 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Monolake,
Minnie Riperton,
Absolute Body Control,
Roy Ayers,
Aural Exciters,
Au Pairs,
Junior Murvin,
Lungfish,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
The Trojans,
Nik Kershaw,
Das Ding,
Sister Nancy,
John Cale,
Stiv Bators,
Sonny Sharrock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Swans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ohio Players,
Mo-Dettes,
Loose Ends,
Wings,
Man Parrish,
The Barracudas,
The Saints,
Niagra,
Warsaw,
JFA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marine Girls,
Goldenarms,
Supertramp,
Ossler,
Gang Green,
Unwound,
Agitation Free,
The Angels of Light,
Echospace,
Toni Rubio,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
Deepchord,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Malaria!,
Visage,
Soft Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
The Victims,
The Alarm Clocks,
Intrusion,
Joyce Sims,
Ronnie Foster,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Flipper,
Cybotron,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.