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 Kiribati and from Copenhagen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Sixth Finger to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Boogie Down Productions,
F. McDonald,
Yusef Lateef,
Y Pants,
Man Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Index,
Country Teasers,
the Association,
The Seeds,
Swans,
Parry Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-101,
Patti Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amazonics,
The Blues Magoos,
Oneida,
James White and The Blacks,
Tubeway Army,
Fugazi,
cv313,
Nirvana,
Funkadelic,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Golliwogs,
Hardrive,
Ronnie Foster,
The Associates,
Gabor Szabo,
Anthony Braxton,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skarface,
Interpol,
The Cramps,
The Doors,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brand Nubian,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dennis Brown,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Saints,
Alison Limerick,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Flag,
Saccharine Trust,
Sound Behaviour,
Pagans,
Mission of Burma,
Accadde A,
Ken Boothe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dawn Penn,
Archie Shepp,
Subhumans,
Spandau Ballet,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fugs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.