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 Luxembourg and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the punk 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Radiohead,
Max Romeo,
The Techniques,
KRS-One,
Archie Shepp,
Glenn Branca,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Buckinghams,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fluxion,
Crooked Eye,
Pulsallama,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mantronix,
Crime,
The Velvet Underground,
the Bar-Kays,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
B.T. Express,
Quantec,
A Certain Ratio,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Modern Lovers,
The Monks,
Scientists,
The Index,
Adolescents,
Nick Fraelich,
Roxy Music,
PIL,
Motorama,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
Dorothy Ashby,
Swans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fatback Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Minnie Riperton,
Dave Gahan,
JFA,
Sun Ra,
Scratch Acid,
Sister Nancy,
Ten City,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Harmonia,
Malaria!,
Public Enemy,
Camouflage,
The Doobie Brothers,
Little Man,
Minny Pops,
Funky Four + One,
Matthew Halsall,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marvin Gaye,
Nik Kershaw,
The Last Poets,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.