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 Brazil and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Tim Buckley to the punk 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rekid,
Janne Schatter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Livin' Joy,
Donald Byrd,
Smog,
10cc,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang On A Can,
Ponytail,
Byron Stingily,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Gabor Szabo,
E-Dancer,
Cheater Slicks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fela Kuti,
Rod Modell,
One Last Wish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mo-Dettes,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Wyatt,
Ossler,
Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
The Last Poets,
Blancmange,
Unwound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Durutti Column,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Bananas,
The Motions,
The Blues Magoos,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nation of Ulysses,
Josef K,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Golliwogs,
The Searchers,
Hot Snakes,
Pulsallama,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Real Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Severed Heads,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tres Demented,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Johnny Clarke,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lyres,
Von Mondo,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.