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 Djibouti and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes 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 Soul Sonic Force to the techno 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kayak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Durutti Column,
Sparks,
Hasil Adkins,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gabor Szabo,
FM Einheit,
Fatback Band,
Subhumans,
Maleditus Sound,
Minor Threat,
Thompson Twins,
Steve Hackett,
Black Sheep,
The Slackers,
Robert Görl,
Panda Bear,
Scratch Acid,
The United States of America,
Sixth Finger,
Talk Talk,
Angry Samoans,
Bang On A Can,
Wasted Youth,
Leonard Cohen,
Godley & Creme,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Happenings,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pierre Henry,
Amazonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Motorama,
Rekid,
LL Cool J,
Rufus Thomas,
Alphaville,
The Neon Judgement,
the Sonics,
ABBA,
The Dirtbombs,
James White and The Blacks,
Kas Product,
The Grass Roots,
Camberwell Now,
Darondo,
Warsaw,
Bobby Sherman,
John Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Flag,
Japan,
Barrington Levy,
Echospace,
David McCallum,
Wally Richardson,
Tres Demented,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.