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 Togo and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Archie Shepp to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Blossom Toes,
The Fuzztones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Reed,
The Birthday Party,
The Searchers,
Colin Newman,
Porter Ricks,
The Black Dice,
Fugazi,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Beau Brummels,
Eurythmics,
Von Mondo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rapeman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delon & Dalcan,
Graham Central Station,
ABBA,
Tommy Roe,
Vladislav Delay,
Brothers Johnson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Prince Buster,
Cluster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Maleditus Sound,
Fela Kuti,
John Foxx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Talk Talk,
Aaron Thompson,
Ronnie Foster,
The Neon Judgement,
The Barracudas,
Susan Cadogan,
Soul II Soul,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Fraelich,
Animal Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Connie Case,
The Knickerbockers,
Electric Prunes,
Japan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scrapy,
The Evens,
Oblivians,
Alphaville,
The Tremeloes,
Shoche,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amon Düül,
The Names,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.