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 Samoa and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Hoover to the jazz 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Intrusion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suicide,
Little Man,
Ken Boothe,
Scratch Acid,
Lungfish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bob Dylan,
Letta Mbulu,
Soft Cell,
Leonard Cohen,
Al Stewart,
Sexual Harrassment,
Peter & Gordon,
Rhythm & Sound,
EPMD,
The Barracudas,
Shuggie Otis,
Mad Mike,
David Axelrod,
Yazoo,
Erasure,
Main Source,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Victims,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wire,
Talk Talk,
Prince Buster,
Jawbox,
Terry Callier,
Delta 5,
Unrelated Segments,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra,
Harry Pussy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Skaos,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
Heaven 17,
Nation of Ulysses,
Con Funk Shun,
Liliput,
Pylon,
The Fuzztones,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Smiths,
Lightning Bolt,
The Happenings,
Jandek,
Royal Trux,
Andrew Hill,
The Tremeloes,
The New Christs,
Bill Near,
Vainqueur,
Lalann,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.