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 Comoros and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Q65 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Skatalites,
Fluxion,
The Happenings,
Fatback Band,
Blancmange,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Bananas,
Monks,
Lakeside,
Siglo XX,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cheater Slicks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
CMW,
Alice Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
The Move,
the Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
Magma,
Robert Hood,
Jeff Lynne,
Section 25,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Almond,
Fugazi,
Agitation Free,
Yusef Lateef,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
Jawbox,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Newcleus,
Sarah Menescal,
Grey Daturas,
Kaleidoscope,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Second Layer,
Echospace,
Funkadelic,
David Axelrod,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gun Club,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cowsills,
Zapp,
Alphaville,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.