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 Colombia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mark Hollis to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Connie Case,
The Remains,
Rakim,
Al Stewart,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barry Ungar,
The Gun Club,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Barracudas,
Fatback Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Minor Threat,
Tom Boy,
The Martian,
Lebanon Hanover,
DJ Sneak,
The Star Department,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Prunes,
Mo-Dettes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fugazi,
Black Sheep,
Echospace,
Nirvana,
Pierre Henry,
Simply Red,
June of 44,
Bang On A Can,
Don Cherry,
Howard Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Soul II Soul,
The Pretty Things,
Yazoo,
Albert Ayler,
Hasil Adkins,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mummies,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pussy Galore,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
Groovy Waters,
Zapp,
The Victims,
The Saints,
Hoover,
the Association,
Suburban Knight,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terry Callier,
Ornette Coleman,
Ohio Players,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Motions,
Pere Ubu,
Tomorrow,
Brass Construction,
Unwound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.