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 Madagascar and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brass Construction to the jazz 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Niagra,
Au Pairs,
Theoretical Girls,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Organ,
Bauhaus,
Pylon,
Yusef Lateef,
The Golliwogs,
Ludus,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brick,
Groovy Waters,
A Certain Ratio,
Hasil Adkins,
Funky Four + One,
Animal Collective,
The Gladiators,
Yaz,
Fugazi,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Steve Hackett,
The Doobie Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
Aaron Thompson,
The Last Poets,
Lebanon Hanover,
Whodini,
Simply Red,
Sex Pistols,
The United States of America,
Mr. Review,
Barry Ungar,
LL Cool J,
Bush Tetras,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sight & Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
Sällskapet,
Harmonia,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pere Ubu,
David Axelrod,
Thee Headcoats,
Qualms,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
Yellowson,
Tubeway Army,
Trumans Water,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Andrew Hill,
The Skatalites,
June of 44,
Interpol,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.