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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Barclay James Harvest to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Shoche,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Porter Ricks,
The Victims,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pussy Galore,
Wings,
The Kinks,
Altered Images,
Nik Kershaw,
Boogie Down Productions,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Underground Resistance,
The Remains,
Donald Byrd,
Rod Modell,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fugs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Harmonia,
Eve St. Jones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
Zero Boys,
Siglo XX,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Echospace,
U.S. Maple,
the Bar-Kays,
Soul Sonic Force,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fatback Band,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Wyatt,
Zapp,
The Fuzztones,
Wolf Eyes,
Half Japanese,
Camouflage,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barry Ungar,
Accadde A,
Moss Icon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
Prince Buster,
Blossom Toes,
Cal Tjader,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gap Band,
Chris Corsano,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ronan,
Loose Ends,
Maleditus Sound,
Average White Band,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.