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 Laos and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the rap 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Ultimate Spinach,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Christie,
H. Thieme,
Khruangbin,
Motorama,
Lower 48,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fela Kuti,
Bauhaus,
Minutemen,
The Velvet Underground,
Erykah Badu,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Los Fastidios,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cymande,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
Bizarre Inc.,
Goldenarms,
Saccharine Trust,
Tommy Roe,
T. Rex,
Simply Red,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C,
Roy Ayers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Unrelated Segments,
Excepter,
The Toasters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
AZ,
Jacob Miller,
Sun City Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neu!,
Minnie Riperton,
Terry Callier,
Yellowson,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Franke,
Mantronix,
Crash Course in Science,
Yaz,
Masters at Work,
Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Darondo,
Soul II Soul,
Ludus,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.