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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Black Sheep to the grunge 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
E-Dancer,
Hasil Adkins,
Lindisfarne,
Electric Prunes,
Tres Demented,
Moebius,
The Fortunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sex Pistols,
kango's stein massive,
Brand Nubian,
The Star Department,
Rotary Connection,
Wasted Youth,
Livin' Joy,
June Days,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
Dennis Brown,
The Offenders,
Tears for Fears,
PIL,
X-101,
Barrington Levy,
Newcleus,
Barry Ungar,
Flamin' Groovies,
Colin Newman,
Todd Terry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
D'Angelo,
Toni Rubio,
Erasure,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacob Miller,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Maurizio,
Index,
Funky Four + One,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
Magazine,
Rakim,
The Leaves,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABC,
David McCallum,
The Music Machine,
Nas,
The Pop Group,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grey Daturas,
the Association,
Excepter,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.