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 Israel and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Lalann to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Neu!,
The Modern Lovers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blancmange,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Silicon Teens,
Deakin,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
Slave,
Lyres,
Funkadelic,
The Misunderstood,
Agitation Free,
The Doors,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
Derrick May,
Davy DMX,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Selecter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kaleidoscope,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Five Americans,
a-ha,
Pussy Galore,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sparks,
Fugazi,
David Bowie,
Fad Gadget,
T.S.O.L.,
Underground Resistance,
Whodini,
Avey Tare,
Matthew Bourne,
Donny Hathaway,
Neil Young,
Aaron Thompson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Sound,
E-Dancer,
Glenn Branca,
the Sonics,
Minnie Riperton,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
David McCallum,
Public Image Ltd.,
Quadrant,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Babytalk,
Depeche Mode,
Wolf Eyes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.