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 Brazil and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Connie Case to the techno 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Walker Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kayak,
KRS-One,
Kurtis Blow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fat Boys,
PIL,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tim Buckley,
Slick Rick,
Parry Music,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Massinfluence,
Erasure,
Rhythm & Sound,
New York Dolls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tubeway Army,
Eurythmics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alison Limerick,
Idris Muhammad,
Tommy Roe,
The Martian,
Sixth Finger,
Guru Guru,
Icehouse,
The Pretty Things,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pierre Henry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Man Parrish,
the Swans,
Soul II Soul,
Scrapy,
Unwound,
Funkadelic,
Glenn Branca,
Visage,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rod Modell,
Hot Snakes,
The Smoke,
Pantaleimon,
Joyce Sims,
Camouflage,
Sällskapet,
The Invisible,
Mission of Burma,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stiv Bators,
Crash Course in Science,
John Coltrane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marshall Jefferson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.