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 Mongolia and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Deepchord to the dance 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
Wally Richardson,
Quantec,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
Scott Walker,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blancmange,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Womack,
Trumans Water,
Lucky Dragons,
Lower 48,
FM Einheit,
Television Personalities,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sällskapet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scratch Acid,
KRS-One,
K-Klass,
Duran Duran,
Laurel Aitken,
Fela Kuti,
the Soft Cell,
L. Decosne,
Subhumans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gun Club,
Maleditus Sound,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
Cluster,
June Days,
Eurythmics,
The Toasters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Raincoats,
Newcleus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Darondo,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
The Standells,
Stiv Bators,
Sixth Finger,
Girls At Our Best!,
Popol Vuh,
Main Source,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
F. McDonald,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.