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 Yemen and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lungfish to the dance 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Crash Course in Science,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bizarre Inc.,
cv313,
Japan,
Moebius,
Susan Cadogan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Don Cherry,
The Raincoats,
DNA,
Fear,
Harry Pussy,
Ken Boothe,
Stetsasonic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bootsy Collins,
Amon Düül II,
Wally Richardson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pussy Galore,
Scratch Acid,
The Dead C,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bill Near,
The Trojans,
Tim Buckley,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Johnny Clarke,
Monks,
Charles Mingus,
Oneida,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pole,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Parry Music,
Intrusion,
Clear Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soft Machine,
Ultra Naté,
Tommy Roe,
The United States of America,
Subhumans,
Popol Vuh,
Livin' Joy,
The Misunderstood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Von Mondo,
Deakin,
Cymande,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jandek,
Shuggie Otis,
B.T. Express,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.