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 Seychelles and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Ultimate Spinach to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Mission of Burma,
Letta Mbulu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Selecter,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sonics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fugs,
Tim Buckley,
Radio Birdman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sugar Minott,
Mars,
Lower 48,
Talk Talk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Subhumans,
The Slackers,
Deepchord,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Iggy Pop,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Neu!,
EPMD,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlback,
Intrusion,
The New Christs,
The Victims,
Bob Dylan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fluxion,
Model 500,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Count Five,
Parry Music,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Skriet,
Shuggie Otis,
Loose Ends,
June of 44,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lalann,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Livin' Joy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fire Engines,
Outsiders,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.