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 Bhutan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Beau Brummels to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Cymande,
Albert Ayler,
Q and Not U,
Hot Snakes,
Echospace,
Bobby Sherman,
Josef K,
K-Klass,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Beau Brummels,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
Darondo,
The Count Five,
Sex Pistols,
Alphaville,
Gang Starr,
Roy Ayers,
Heaven 17,
Morten Harket,
Banda Bassotti,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Livin' Joy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Green,
Erasure,
Ornette Coleman,
DNA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Machine,
Wire,
Young Marble Giants,
Easy Going,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Finger,
MDC,
Aswad,
Masters at Work,
Marine Girls,
Mandrill,
Nico,
Cameo,
Country Teasers,
The Fall,
The United States of America,
Surgeon,
Yellowson,
Joe Smooth,
Skarface,
Technova,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hasil Adkins,
Pussy Galore,
The Fortunes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Robert Görl,
AZ,
The J.B.'s,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.