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 Cuba 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Glenn Branca to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Outsiders,
Mantronix,
Oblivians,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
K-Klass,
Warsaw,
The Grass Roots,
Suicide,
Ultra Naté,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Association,
Porter Ricks,
Brick,
John Lydon,
MDC,
Metal Thangz,
Tropical Tobacco,
Graham Central Station,
Nils Olav,
Icehouse,
Roy Ayers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lebanon Hanover,
Spandau Ballet,
Cymande,
Mad Mike,
Ohio Players,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unwound,
Blossom Toes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Teasers,
Tommy Roe,
Aloha Tigers,
Rites of Spring,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Mills,
Freddie Wadling,
Au Pairs,
Curtis Mayfield,
48th St. Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Black Dice,
Neu!,
Arab on Radar,
Ossler,
Sällskapet,
Fad Gadget,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Byron Stingily,
Bauhaus,
Iggy Pop,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quando Quango,
Amazonics,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.