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 Mexico and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 X-101 to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Tears for Fears,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Bourne,
Scrapy,
John Coltrane,
Todd Terry,
Carl Craig,
48th St. Collective,
Sällskapet,
Qualms,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Henry Cow,
the Soft Cell,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moss Icon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Subhumans,
Lou Christie,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boz Scaggs,
Darondo,
Nick Fraelich,
Josef K,
Clear Light,
Arthur Verocai,
Spoonie Gee,
Gabor Szabo,
Adolescents,
Graham Central Station,
The Move,
the Swans,
Letta Mbulu,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roxette,
Reagan Youth,
Unwound,
ABBA,
Ituana,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rekid,
the Normal,
The Kinks,
Ohio Players,
Sonic Youth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sarah Menescal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Junior Murvin,
The Skatalites,
Heaven 17,
Tropical Tobacco,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rites of Spring,
Jesper Dahlback,
Magazine,
Lower 48,
Franke,
Glenn Branca,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.