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 Indonesia and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar 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 Alice Coltrane to the rap 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Womack,
This Heat,
Monolake,
Sixth Finger,
The Moleskins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eurythmics,
Hardrive,
Malaria!,
Andrew Hill,
Donny Hathaway,
Japan,
Deepchord,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
Robert Görl,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cybotron,
Aswad,
John Cale,
Matthew Halsall,
Archie Shepp,
Blake Baxter,
The Walker Brothers,
David Bowie,
Connie Case,
Ronnie Foster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sister Nancy,
The Music Machine,
Depeche Mode,
OOIOO,
The Five Americans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dual Sessions,
Sällskapet,
Tommy Roe,
Suburban Knight,
Hoover,
Spandau Ballet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crooked Eye,
The Monochrome Set,
Chris & Cosey,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cymande,
Alison Limerick,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minny Pops,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brass Construction,
Tres Demented,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.