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 Kiribati and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 the Bar-Kays to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Pantaleimon,
X-Ray Spex,
Fluxion,
June Days,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brothers Johnson,
Technova,
F. McDonald,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bad Manners,
Lungfish,
Accadde A,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Underground Resistance,
Reuben Wilson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Loose Ends,
Basic Channel,
The Vogues,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The United States of America,
Kenny Larkin,
The Moleskins,
Index,
New Age Steppers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DJ Sneak,
Stereo Dub,
Al Stewart,
Fatback Band,
Aural Exciters,
Camberwell Now,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ohio Players,
New Order,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joy Division,
Motorama,
Todd Rundgren,
Porter Ricks,
Don Cherry,
Rosa Yemen,
Barrington Levy,
Ice-T,
Isaac Hayes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Misunderstood,
Theoretical Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Circle Jerks,
Moss Icon,
Popol Vuh,
Yellowson,
Godley & Creme,
Black Bananas,
Sällskapet,
The Residents,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.