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 Iran and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
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 harpsichord 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 Roy Ayers to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller 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?
Marvin Gaye,
Little Man,
Don Cherry,
L. Decosne,
Barrington Levy,
Boredoms,
Bob Dylan,
Agitation Free,
Bill Near,
Crime,
Desert Stars,
Ronan,
Newcleus,
Kerri Chandler,
Brick,
Rites of Spring,
Cal Tjader,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Shoche,
Gang Green,
Lebanon Hanover,
PIL,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scott Walker,
JFA,
Alton Ellis,
Malaria!,
Deakin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sugar Minott,
Amon Düül II,
Adolescents,
Scratch Acid,
Traffic Nightmare,
Q and Not U,
The Mummies,
Easy Going,
Eli Mardock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
F. McDonald,
The Move,
Television,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Almond,
The Cowsills,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Drexciya,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sällskapet,
James White and The Blacks,
Rosa Yemen,
Y Pants,
Scientists,
Animal Collective,
Severed Heads,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Germs,
Nirvana,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fire Engines,
The Wake,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.