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 New Zealand and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Suburban Knight to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Arcadia,
Jawbox,
The Angels of Light,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tears for Fears,
Sällskapet,
DJ Sneak,
Fugazi,
Amon Düül,
Angry Samoans,
Lalann,
The Durutti Column,
Sonic Youth,
The Martian,
Fear,
Ken Boothe,
Bluetip,
Kayak,
The Birthday Party,
The Buckinghams,
Sound Behaviour,
T. Rex,
New York Dolls,
Letta Mbulu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Deepchord,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ten City,
Flash Fearless,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Index,
Skaos,
Black Moon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Magazine,
Rosa Yemen,
Charles Mingus,
Main Source,
Mars,
Wire,
Sixth Finger,
The Moody Blues,
Monks,
Barclay James Harvest,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roger Hodgson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Reuben Wilson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Popol Vuh,
Archie Shepp,
Easy Going,
Pagans,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Delta 5,
Organ,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.