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 Turkmenistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nick Fraelich to the funk 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
the Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Metal Thangz,
Camberwell Now,
Steve Hackett,
Chris Corsano,
Youth Brigade,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Green,
The Tremeloes,
The American Breed,
Main Source,
Technova,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gabor Szabo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Leonard Cohen,
Quantec,
Graham Central Station,
Moss Icon,
Warsaw,
Brass Construction,
Qualms,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aaron Thompson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Monks,
Newcleus,
Boz Scaggs,
Sparks,
Danielle Patucci,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jawbox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cowsills,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Pus,
Slick Rick,
Kas Product,
Mo-Dettes,
Harpers Bizarre,
FM Einheit,
The Alarm Clocks,
Television,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lucky Dragons,
U.S. Maple,
Surgeon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Victims,
Pere Ubu,
Cecil Taylor,
Todd Rundgren,
Mary Jane Girls,
Section 25,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.