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 Netherlands and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Charles Mingus to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Albert Ayler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nirvana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Moebius,
Skaos,
A Certain Ratio,
Cheater Slicks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacob Miller,
Bang On A Can,
The Velvet Underground,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Lyres,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David McCallum,
Pantytec,
Stiv Bators,
Fat Boys,
The Busters,
Niagra,
the Normal,
Neil Young,
Aural Exciters,
Minor Threat,
Average White Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visage,
Tres Demented,
Pantaleimon,
The Doobie Brothers,
CMW,
Khruangbin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faust,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Wells,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Matthew Halsall,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Freddie Wadling,
Chris & Cosey,
Man Parrish,
Marmalade,
Oneida,
The New Christs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hasil Adkins,
Saccharine Trust,
Reuben Wilson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Easy Going,
X-101,
The Index,
K-Klass,
Con Funk Shun,
Rod Modell,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.