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 Ivory Coast and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 ABBA to the crunk 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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
The Angels of Light,
The Fuzztones,
kango's stein massive,
Icehouse,
Robert Görl,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Order,
Inner City,
The Real Kids,
The Count Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Neil Young,
Country Teasers,
Funky Four + One,
Alphaville,
Freddie Wadling,
The Sonics,
Wasted Youth,
Barry Ungar,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Main Source,
Lee Hazlewood,
Frankie Knuckles,
New York Dolls,
The Red Krayola,
Carl Craig,
Rod Modell,
Kaleidoscope,
Janne Schatter,
Amon Düül II,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Aswad,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Flash Fearless,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eden Ahbez,
Dead Boys,
Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rosa Yemen,
Au Pairs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gories,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Standells,
Dark Day,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jacob Miller,
Godley & Creme,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.