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 Albania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Silicon Teens,
Kurtis Blow,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Erykah Badu,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Motions,
The Slackers,
The Velvet Underground,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang On A Can,
Severed Heads,
Ossler,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
OOIOO,
Masters at Work,
June of 44,
The Dead C,
Wally Richardson,
Shuggie Otis,
The Happenings,
The Busters,
Arab on Radar,
Kenny Larkin,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Lynne,
The Index,
Organ,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Neil Young,
The Selecter,
Roxy Music,
Black Flag,
Second Layer,
David Bowie,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joe Finger,
Panda Bear,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fela Kuti,
Yusef Lateef,
T. Rex,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crash Course in Science,
Babytalk,
Mad Mike,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crooked Eye,
Hoover,
Bob Dylan,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Christie,
Tommy Roe,
Bronski Beat,
The Fugs,
Vainqueur,
Camouflage,
Roxette,
The Zeros,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.