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 Panama and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gang Starr to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Joe Finger,
The Durutti Column,
Dave Gahan,
The Cramps,
Alice Coltrane,
Quadrant,
Marc Almond,
Duran Duran,
Blossom Toes,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Bananas,
Fugazi,
Terry Callier,
Rod Modell,
Danielle Patucci,
La Düsseldorf,
Vainqueur,
Wasted Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
In Retrospect,
Hoover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
AZ,
Goldenarms,
The Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
Yusef Lateef,
Suicide,
Rufus Thomas,
Deakin,
The Wake,
Motorama,
Nils Olav,
Dark Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
Whodini,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bill Near,
The Techniques,
10cc,
Khruangbin,
Rites of Spring,
Sällskapet,
The Five Americans,
The Divine Comedy,
Masters at Work,
Audionom,
The Seeds,
The Residents,
Cheater Slicks,
Glenn Branca,
the Bar-Kays,
Funky Four + One,
Simply Red,
Sun City Girls,
KRS-One,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Inner City,
Rapeman,
Al Stewart,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.