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 Korea North and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Howard Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
Accadde A,
Skarface,
Ten City,
Clear Light,
Goldenarms,
The Real Kids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bad Manners,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ossler,
June of 44,
Flipper,
Erykah Badu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Loose Ends,
Oneida,
the Bar-Kays,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barry Ungar,
Yusef Lateef,
Deepchord,
Can,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chrome,
Tropical Tobacco,
Underground Resistance,
Slick Rick,
Stereo Dub,
Mr. Review,
Shuggie Otis,
Fatback Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Qualms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Darondo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wings,
Sam Rivers,
Tears for Fears,
Agitation Free,
Pet Shop Boys,
L. Decosne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Swans,
Anakelly,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Alison Limerick,
the Slits,
The Moody Blues,
Cecil Taylor,
Marcia Griffiths,
Warren Ellis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Animal Collective,
OOIOO,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.