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 Brunei and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Masters at Work to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Kenny Larkin,
Crooked Eye,
kango's stein massive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thompson Twins,
the Association,
Pussy Galore,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Make Up,
Con Funk Shun,
Frankie Knuckles,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Pus,
Marvin Gaye,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang On A Can,
Guru Guru,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cheater Slicks,
The Divine Comedy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Average White Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blake Baxter,
Joyce Sims,
Deepchord,
Eve St. Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Bad Manners,
The Slits,
Schoolly D,
K-Klass,
Iggy Pop,
Magazine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dirtbombs,
Gong,
Tomorrow,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Bananas,
Siglo XX,
Rosa Yemen,
Pulsallama,
Masters at Work,
Warren Ellis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Grauzone,
Jimmy McGriff,
Whodini,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Newcleus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crispian St. Peters,
Livin' Joy,
Half Japanese,
Smog,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.