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 Vietnam and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Buckinghams to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
The Misunderstood,
Qualms,
Eli Mardock,
The Modern Lovers,
Shuggie Otis,
Maurizio,
New Order,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Durutti Column,
Althea and Donna,
Boredoms,
The Happenings,
Sister Nancy,
Mad Mike,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective,
Panda Bear,
Aswad,
Blake Baxter,
Peter and Kerry,
T. Rex,
Rites of Spring,
Severed Heads,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wally Richardson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Isaac Hayes,
Cheater Slicks,
Rod Modell,
Delta 5,
Robert Hood,
Janne Schatter,
Mars,
The Smoke,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chris Corsano,
Drexciya,
Public Enemy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tubeway Army,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mummies,
Fad Gadget,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wings,
Joy Division,
David Axelrod,
Terrestrial Tones,
AZ,
Das Ding,
Franke,
Funkadelic,
Spoonie Gee,
Gabor Szabo,
Archie Shepp,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.