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 Serbia and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Drexciya to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Last Poets,
Procol Harum,
Depeche Mode,
Ohio Players,
The Pretty Things,
The Monks,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Skarface,
OOIOO,
Y Pants,
Kurtis Blow,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Görl,
June Days,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alphaville,
Jimmy McGriff,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fad Gadget,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Cale,
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Wyatt,
Rakim,
ABBA,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
Lower 48,
Faraquet,
Lungfish,
The Blues Magoos,
Q65,
Amon Düül II,
Andrew Hill,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Adolescents,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Angels of Light,
Stetsasonic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eve St. Jones,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cheater Slicks,
The Durutti Column,
Siglo XX,
Todd Rundgren,
Mission of Burma,
Saccharine Trust,
Iggy Pop,
Sparks,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.