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 Kuwait and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
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 Nile Rodgers 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 Isaac Hayes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
Parry Music,
Terry Callier,
The Busters,
Heaven 17,
Audionom,
Lou Reed,
Infiniti,
Severed Heads,
The Saints,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Scientists,
Stetsasonic,
Section 25,
The Monks,
a-ha,
Ken Boothe,
OOIOO,
Pagans,
Zero Boys,
Grey Daturas,
Sister Nancy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Banda Bassotti,
Oneida,
Patti Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Simply Red,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Sam Rivers,
The Count Five,
The Mojo Men,
Skaos,
The Doors,
June Days,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Wells,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun City Girls,
the Swans,
Monks,
Crooked Eye,
Eden Ahbez,
Q and Not U,
Moss Icon,
Rites of Spring,
Laurel Aitken,
Essential Logic,
Arthur Verocai,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Parrish,
The Evens,
The Associates,
Scott Walker,
Minny Pops,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
Bluetip,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.