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 Peru and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron 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 Thompson Twins to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aaron Thompson,
Q65,
Bobby Sherman,
Glenn Branca,
The Detroit Cobras,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jandek,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris Corsano,
Connie Case,
the Association,
The Monochrome Set,
Siglo XX,
Sugar Minott,
H. Thieme,
Hardrive,
Model 500,
the Sonics,
Peter & Gordon,
The Zeros,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rakim,
Aswad,
Lower 48,
Jawbox,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Parry Music,
Judy Mowatt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T.S.O.L.,
The Raincoats,
Minutemen,
Roxette,
Soul II Soul,
the Fania All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
The Red Krayola,
Eden Ahbez,
The Misunderstood,
Eurythmics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Liliput,
Y Pants,
Amon Düül,
La Düsseldorf,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pussy Galore,
Smog,
Brass Construction,
Accadde A,
Funkadelic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Smooth,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.