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 Spain and from Spokane.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar 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 Mission of Burma to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Gang Green,
Blake Baxter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Zero Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Red Krayola,
Tropical Tobacco,
Carl Craig,
Model 500,
Pantytec,
Al Stewart,
Nirvana,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cramps,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Metal Thangz,
Quantec,
Altered Images,
Qualms,
June of 44,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Thompson Twins,
Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Starr,
Alice Coltrane,
Minutemen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Count Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Au Pairs,
Japan,
Eddi Front,
The Moody Blues,
the Normal,
Eve St. Jones,
Radiohead,
Average White Band,
Nils Olav,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scott Walker,
The Invisible,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brass Construction,
Saccharine Trust,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vainqueur,
Bobby Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Agitation Free,
Desert Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gories,
David McCallum,
Rosa Yemen,
Scientists,
Stiv Bators,
Brand Nubian,
Donald Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.