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 Colombia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Icehouse to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smoke,
Dead Boys,
Pole,
Supertramp,
Anthony Braxton,
Pussy Galore,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Zapp,
Severed Heads,
Harmonia,
Trumans Water,
Theoretical Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Young Marble Giants,
John Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
Hoover,
Y Pants,
Black Moon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donny Hathaway,
Banda Bassotti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-Ray Spex,
Toni Rubio,
Yaz,
Moss Icon,
Tom Boy,
Sugar Minott,
Moby Grape,
Metal Thangz,
Groovy Waters,
Index,
Dorothy Ashby,
Spoonie Gee,
the Germs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mummies,
Sound Behaviour,
Camouflage,
The Kinks,
Motorama,
Jeff Mills,
Guru Guru,
The Searchers,
Scratch Acid,
The Golliwogs,
Aaron Thompson,
Aural Exciters,
Jeff Lynne,
Franke,
David Bowie,
Siglo XX,
Mark Hollis,
Minor Threat,
Yellowson,
Lou Reed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Bar-Kays,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.