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 Bangladesh and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
EPMD,
48th St. Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-Ray Spex,
K-Klass,
John Lydon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
The Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
The New Christs,
Mars,
James White and The Blacks,
Ponytail,
Jeff Lynne,
Urselle,
Magazine,
The Monochrome Set,
Scientists,
Rod Modell,
Circle Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ronan,
Tommy Roe,
Aural Exciters,
the Human League,
Joyce Sims,
Interpol,
Lalo Schifrin,
New Age Steppers,
Sixth Finger,
Joy Division,
Neil Young,
Rosa Yemen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pulsallama,
Dual Sessions,
Judy Mowatt,
The Five Americans,
Slick Rick,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Outsiders,
Scan 7,
Pantytec,
Sun Ra,
Yazoo,
Jacob Miller,
Boz Scaggs,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Victims,
Monks,
The Fuzztones,
Khruangbin,
Altered Images,
Hardrive,
Audionom,
The Saints,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.