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 Djibouti and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marvin Gaye to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Talk Talk,
Ralphi Rosario,
Public Enemy,
Gong,
Quantec,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Pus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Electric Prunes,
The Invisible,
Iggy Pop,
Severed Heads,
Monks,
Nils Olav,
Ornette Coleman,
X-101,
June of 44,
Bush Tetras,
Josef K,
The Doobie Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Loose Ends,
The Gun Club,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Womack,
Spandau Ballet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aural Exciters,
Circle Jerks,
The Music Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
John Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Sam Rivers,
The American Breed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Donny Hathaway,
The Martian,
The Blackbyrds,
kango's stein massive,
The Vogues,
Gang Green,
Liliput,
The Standells,
Aswad,
Panda Bear,
Dual Sessions,
Gang Gang Dance,
ABC,
Intrusion,
Alphaville,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Swans,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.