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 Micronesia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Invisible to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Nik Kershaw,
Alison Limerick,
The Standells,
Soft Machine,
The Cure,
Wasted Youth,
Radiohead,
Ossler,
Amazonics,
Buzzcocks,
The Mojo Men,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magma,
the Normal,
Tropical Tobacco,
Moss Icon,
Fat Boys,
LL Cool J,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yaz,
Tubeway Army,
Jawbox,
These Immortal Souls,
The J.B.'s,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
The Real Kids,
the Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Boredoms,
Jacob Miller,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oneida,
Fugazi,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camberwell Now,
Unrelated Segments,
PIL,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sandy B,
Anakelly,
Joe Smooth,
Echospace,
The Grass Roots,
Flamin' Groovies,
Outsiders,
Eli Mardock,
The American Breed,
Scott Walker,
Cheater Slicks,
the Association,
Cecil Taylor,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.