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 Uruguay and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Stetsasonic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vainqueur,
The Saints,
Half Japanese,
The Wake,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Byron Stingily,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kayak,
Aswad,
Newcleus,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Knickerbockers,
Royal Trux,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Starr,
Ralphi Rosario,
Donny Hathaway,
Lucky Dragons,
Index,
The Divine Comedy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dirtbombs,
Don Cherry,
Grauzone,
Arab on Radar,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crispy Ambulance,
Clear Light,
The Happenings,
Lungfish,
Mad Mike,
Roger Hodgson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Index,
Sister Nancy,
U.S. Maple,
Bang On A Can,
Mantronix,
Sparks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
Kurtis Blow,
Alice Coltrane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Beau Brummels,
Sarah Menescal,
Jeru the Damaja,
Juan Atkins,
Kool Moe Dee,
X-102,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Silicon Teens,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Symarip,
Urselle,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.