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 Netherlands and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Wolf Eyes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Public Image Ltd.,
Connie Case,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Zeros,
Rufus Thomas,
DNA,
Tears for Fears,
The Happenings,
ABC,
Underground Resistance,
The Cramps,
Eric Dolphy,
Andrew Hill,
Theoretical Girls,
Cluster,
Adolescents,
Alton Ellis,
Shoche,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Swans,
Tom Boy,
Infiniti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bill Near,
Can,
The American Breed,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Green,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sex Pistols,
Patti Smith,
The Raincoats,
Graham Central Station,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blossom Toes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Busters,
Freddie Wadling,
Yazoo,
Scion,
Neil Young,
Peter & Gordon,
R.M.O.,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Parry Music,
John Holt,
Surgeon,
Idris Muhammad,
A Certain Ratio,
Inner City,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doors,
Dave Gahan,
The Saints,
Organ,
Massinfluence,
T. Rex,
The Beau Brummels,
Skarface,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.