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 Afghanistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gong to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Nico,
June Days,
Khruangbin,
ABC,
Archie Shepp,
The Monks,
Panda Bear,
Unwound,
Los Fastidios,
Rosa Yemen,
Don Cherry,
Matthew Bourne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Kinks,
Gang of Four,
Boz Scaggs,
The Pop Group,
Audionom,
Dark Day,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
T. Rex,
World's Most,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
kango's stein massive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Livin' Joy,
The Five Americans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Delon & Dalcan,
Inner City,
Black Bananas,
David Bowie,
The Evens,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quantec,
The Mummies,
Brand Nubian,
The Fortunes,
Robert Wyatt,
Tom Boy,
the Normal,
The Music Machine,
Eric Dolphy,
Blake Baxter,
Agitation Free,
Toni Rubio,
The Happenings,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Sheep,
The Velvet Underground,
John Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Swans,
Chrome,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.