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 Germany and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Popol Vuh,
Animal Collective,
Main Source,
Subhumans,
Franke,
AZ,
The American Breed,
Pussy Galore,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grauzone,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Reuben Wilson,
Sarah Menescal,
Au Pairs,
Moby Grape,
Oblivians,
Lungfish,
The Leaves,
Althea and Donna,
Janne Schatter,
Ohio Players,
L. Decosne,
Silicon Teens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
B.T. Express,
Harry Pussy,
Sparks,
Lakeside,
Ludus,
Delta 5,
Adolescents,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eric Copeland,
Mr. Review,
Kaleidoscope,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
Bang On A Can,
Yellowson,
Maleditus Sound,
Soft Cell,
Lindisfarne,
Bronski Beat,
Bush Tetras,
The Music Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New Order,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Neil Young,
Dead Boys,
Negative Approach,
Bluetip,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.