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 Comoros and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Youth Brigade to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Mad Mike,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ossler,
Grey Daturas,
Judy Mowatt,
Brothers Johnson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jacques Brel,
Johnny Clarke,
Mo-Dettes,
Marine Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Nirvana,
David Bowie,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ten City,
Deepchord,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crime,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fluxion,
Kaleidoscope,
Pole,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
The Music Machine,
Ohio Players,
Wings,
Average White Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Darondo,
Q65,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lakeside,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Urselle,
The Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Juan Atkins,
Bluetip,
Icehouse,
Cheater Slicks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Slave,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Idris Muhammad,
Metal Thangz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Prince Buster,
Index,
the Germs,
X-Ray Spex,
Todd Rundgren,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
The Divine Comedy,
Rotary Connection,
Silicon Teens,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fatback Band,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.