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 Guatemala and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Letta Mbulu to the punk 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
T. Rex,
Ituana,
Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Royal Trux,
the Fania All-Stars,
The American Breed,
B.T. Express,
cv313,
Boz Scaggs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joe Finger,
Lindisfarne,
Blossom Toes,
Urselle,
Morten Harket,
Audionom,
Byron Stingily,
Aswad,
Scion,
The Motions,
Mandrill,
Freddie Wadling,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gerry Rafferty,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joensuu 1685,
Nirvana,
Panda Bear,
Fad Gadget,
Yazoo,
Ultravox,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gichy Dan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flipper,
Yusef Lateef,
Moby Grape,
Zero Boys,
Quadrant,
Bootsy Collins,
The Zeros,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Skatalites,
The Raincoats,
New Order,
Excepter,
Lou Reed,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Martian,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Monochrome Set,
Ossler,
The Pretty Things,
The Offenders,
Neu!,
Neil Young,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.