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 Dominica and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bush Tetras to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Fear,
Aaron Thompson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wire,
Parry Music,
D'Angelo,
Henry Cow,
Jeff Mills,
Cymande,
The Index,
Mark Hollis,
This Heat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lindisfarne,
Underground Resistance,
Kaleidoscope,
Hardrive,
Faraquet,
The Human League,
Hashim,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
Amon Düül II,
Al Stewart,
Ice-T,
The United States of America,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jimmy McGriff,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bluetip,
The Evens,
The Real Kids,
Arthur Verocai,
The American Breed,
Lungfish,
The Knickerbockers,
Liliput,
The Victims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DJ Sneak,
Spoonie Gee,
Stetsasonic,
The Sonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
The Fall,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cluster,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.