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 Andorra and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Average White Band to the rock 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mummies,
Swell Maps,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sonic Youth,
Black Bananas,
Bush Tetras,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Faraquet,
Sandy B,
The Fortunes,
Scrapy,
Connie Case,
Black Moon,
a-ha,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
Television Personalities,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yazoo,
Matthew Halsall,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sparks,
Pere Ubu,
Laurel Aitken,
The American Breed,
Grey Daturas,
the Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Masters at Work,
Gang Green,
Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kurtis Blow,
Soulsonic Force,
DJ Sneak,
World's Most,
Soul II Soul,
Livin' Joy,
Excepter,
the Swans,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cal Tjader,
Rotary Connection,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Rosa Yemen,
The Gap Band,
Visage,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deakin,
Bootsy Collins,
The Techniques,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Seeds,
The Star Department,
The Fugs,
Heaven 17,
The Busters,
Arcadia,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.