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 Sri Lanka and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Derrick Morgan to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Moon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The J.B.'s,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nick Fraelich,
Angry Samoans,
June of 44,
Kurtis Blow,
Clear Light,
H. Thieme,
Lungfish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quando Quango,
Sun Ra,
The Count Five,
D'Angelo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fela Kuti,
Severed Heads,
the Normal,
Jandek,
Sixth Finger,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vladislav Delay,
Hardrive,
Cameo,
The Dead C,
The Litter,
Unrelated Segments,
Deadbeat,
The Sound,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erykah Badu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Motorama,
The Neon Judgement,
Yellowson,
B.T. Express,
Porter Ricks,
One Last Wish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Buzzcocks,
The Modern Lovers,
World's Most,
Soft Cell,
Symarip,
The Red Krayola,
Faust,
the Swans,
The Move,
The Invisible,
Stiv Bators,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.