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 Vietnam and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro 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 Aloha Tigers to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Jawbox,
Bang On A Can,
Crispy Ambulance,
Saccharine Trust,
The New Christs,
Derrick Morgan,
Neu!,
Nick Fraelich,
Archie Shepp,
Inner City,
Magazine,
Gerry Rafferty,
D'Angelo,
Tubeway Army,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pagans,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gladiators,
Anakelly,
Quando Quango,
Flash Fearless,
Mr. Review,
Nik Kershaw,
Sonic Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Make Up,
Marine Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun Ra,
Liliput,
Sugar Minott,
Kerrie Biddell,
New York Dolls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skaos,
Suicide,
E-Dancer,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Pus,
These Immortal Souls,
Visage,
Symarip,
Yellowson,
Graham Central Station,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Interpol,
The Durutti Column,
Model 500,
Country Teasers,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Swans,
Lyres,
Au Pairs,
Ornette Coleman,
Procol Harum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swell Maps,
Dawn Penn,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.