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 Tuvalu and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Yazoo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Smoke,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Connie Case,
Clear Light,
The Moleskins,
Bronski Beat,
Terry Callier,
Rakim,
Minnie Riperton,
Circle Jerks,
Mandrill,
Con Funk Shun,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
The Moody Blues,
Franke,
Shoche,
The Monochrome Set,
John Coltrane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stereo Dub,
Main Source,
Joe Finger,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gabor Szabo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Star Department,
Bootsy Collins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Can,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Beau Brummels,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Residents,
Charles Mingus,
These Immortal Souls,
Sällskapet,
Deadbeat,
Dual Sessions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Severed Heads,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cowsills,
the Bar-Kays,
Dark Day,
Goldenarms,
Iggy Pop,
Ituana,
Scion,
Mission of Burma,
Oneida,
Popol Vuh,
China Crisis,
Yellowson,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.