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 Malta and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Severed Heads to the funk 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
L. Decosne,
Outsiders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Parry Music,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
EPMD,
Cymande,
Stiv Bators,
Al Stewart,
Soft Machine,
Nirvana,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Soft Cell,
Lalann,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Angry Samoans,
Second Layer,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantaleimon,
Amon Düül,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
Minor Threat,
Leonard Cohen,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Make Up,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Bananas,
Quantec,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fall,
The Toasters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Suicide,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
Unrelated Segments,
Todd Rundgren,
Tomorrow,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra,
Man Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Suburban Knight,
The Grass Roots,
Janne Schatter,
Royal Trux,
Faust,
R.M.O.,
Quando Quango,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.