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 Vietnam and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deakin,
Roxette,
New Age Steppers,
Pagans,
Inner City,
The Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
Soulsonic Force,
Yazoo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Absolute Body Control,
Brothers Johnson,
Henry Cow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Seeds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Average White Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lebanon Hanover,
Boredoms,
Section 25,
Derrick May,
The Motions,
Pulsallama,
Lower 48,
The Beau Brummels,
Warren Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
Swans,
Ronan,
Lakeside,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Agent Orange,
The Slits,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terry Callier,
Lightning Bolt,
Parry Music,
La Düsseldorf,
Hot Snakes,
Icehouse,
Nation of Ulysses,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Sonics,
Thompson Twins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Busters,
Stetsasonic,
Sugar Minott,
Rekid,
Wolf Eyes,
Scan 7,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.