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 Uzbekistan and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gastr Del Sol to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Robert Wyatt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deakin,
Josef K,
Brick,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stetsasonic,
Dawn Penn,
Ronan,
Eric Dolphy,
The Leaves,
Bad Manners,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Toasters,
Andrew Hill,
Absolute Body Control,
Lucky Dragons,
Agitation Free,
Erykah Badu,
The Divine Comedy,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Flipper,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Soft Cell,
Bush Tetras,
Arcadia,
Ituana,
Zapp,
Michelle Simonal,
Patti Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Görl,
Reagan Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scott Walker,
Mad Mike,
Icehouse,
Whodini,
Eric B and Rakim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joe Finger,
Darondo,
Matthew Halsall,
The J.B.'s,
Blossom Toes,
Ronnie Foster,
Roxy Music,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerri Chandler,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
The Music Machine,
Monolake,
The Skatalites,
John Holt,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.