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 Tuvalu and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lightning Bolt to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Piero Umiliani,
The Remains,
D'Angelo,
Terry Callier,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeff Mills,
the Human League,
the Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lindisfarne,
Franke,
The Vogues,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hoover,
Donny Hathaway,
Fatback Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Pylon,
Rufus Thomas,
Monks,
Roxette,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Cale,
Howard Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delon & Dalcan,
Robert Görl,
Eurythmics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lungfish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aswad,
Desert Stars,
The Red Krayola,
Albert Ayler,
Animal Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gladiators,
New Age Steppers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Khruangbin,
Eve St. Jones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Josef K,
LL Cool J,
Porter Ricks,
Pere Ubu,
In Retrospect,
Joe Smooth,
Faust,
Y Pants,
Juan Atkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Television Personalities,
Jawbox,
Gichy Dan,
The Modern Lovers,
Slick Rick,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.