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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Kas Product to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Kinks,
The Smiths,
The Toasters,
Bobby Sherman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
The Names,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sister Nancy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Q and Not U,
Sun City Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacques Brel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amon Düül,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unrelated Segments,
Dead Boys,
Zapp,
Davy DMX,
Flipper,
Jesper Dahlback,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dead C,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare,
Alice Coltrane,
The Grass Roots,
The Star Department,
Terry Callier,
Toni Rubio,
Ohio Players,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Five Americans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Country Teasers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Derrick May,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kaleidoscope,
James White and The Blacks,
Qualms,
The Moody Blues,
Al Stewart,
The Gories,
Pulsallama,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Eli Mardock,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.