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 Slovenia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Animal Collective,
Stetsasonic,
Graham Central Station,
Maurizio,
Neu!,
The Evens,
The Seeds,
Franke,
The Blues Magoos,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Birthday Party,
James White and The Blacks,
MC5,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Supertramp,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dawn Penn,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fire Engines,
Ultra Naté,
the Sonics,
DJ Sneak,
The Barracudas,
The Tremeloes,
KRS-One,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Circle Jerks,
Bad Manners,
Gang of Four,
Television,
Clear Light,
Lungfish,
Massinfluence,
Gang Green,
Minutemen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Japan,
R.M.O.,
Charles Mingus,
Wasted Youth,
Negative Approach,
Soft Machine,
Magma,
Zero Boys,
Heaven 17,
Visage,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Modern Lovers,
OOIOO,
Nas,
Laurel Aitken,
Sugar Minott,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doors,
Angry Samoans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pylon,
Kas Product,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.