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 Albania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar 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 The Five Americans to the rap 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Rapeman,
Urselle,
Iggy Pop,
The Toasters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Anakelly,
Magazine,
Q65,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Certain Ratio,
Surgeon,
Marc Almond,
Rod Modell,
Television,
The Dead C,
Rakim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marvin Gaye,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Buckinghams,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Bourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronnie Foster,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sam Rivers,
Quantec,
The Knickerbockers,
Pulsallama,
The Fortunes,
Saccharine Trust,
AZ,
Tim Buckley,
48th St. Collective,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barry Ungar,
La Düsseldorf,
Q and Not U,
Monks,
Malaria!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
Cluster,
Black Pus,
Andrew Hill,
the Swans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Robert Wyatt,
The Saints,
10cc,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ohio Players,
the Association,
Marshall Jefferson,
Essential Logic,
Soft Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.