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 Liberia and from New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Blossom Toes to the jazz 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
K-Klass,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Malaria!,
Slave,
Piero Umiliani,
The Doors,
Sun City Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marine Girls,
Whodini,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kool Moe Dee,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blues Magoos,
The Smiths,
Ice-T,
Cybotron,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fatback Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Q65,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hoover,
R.M.O.,
Crooked Eye,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dead C,
In Retrospect,
Iggy Pop,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Womack,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Smog,
Nils Olav,
D'Angelo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Adolescents,
Jawbox,
Motorama,
Black Sheep,
Procol Harum,
T. Rex,
Bang On A Can,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kayak,
Das Ding,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bootsy Collins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Tremeloes,
Man Parrish,
Amon Düül II,
Graham Central Station,
Dennis Brown,
Laurel Aitken,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.