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 Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 David Axelrod to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Agent Orange,
Fifty Foot Hose,
June Days,
Model 500,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ornette Coleman,
The Litter,
Deepchord,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Shuggie Otis,
Eli Mardock,
Lakeside,
Section 25,
Sly & The Family Stone,
R.M.O.,
Robert Hood,
MDC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacques Brel,
the Normal,
Ossler,
Funkadelic,
Josef K,
Can,
Monks,
Tommy Roe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Juan Atkins,
Cal Tjader,
Skarface,
Deadbeat,
Anakelly,
Aswad,
The Fugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mad Mike,
The Last Poets,
Average White Band,
Roger Hodgson,
The Five Americans,
The Young Rascals,
Morten Harket,
Lucky Dragons,
Roxy Music,
MC5,
The Wake,
The Invisible,
Soulsonic Force,
Rod Modell,
Suburban Knight,
The Associates,
Lyres,
The Leaves,
Minutemen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neu!,
The Misunderstood,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.