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 Haiti and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Soulsonic Force to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faraquet,
L. Decosne,
Nico,
Todd Rundgren,
Harmonia,
Outsiders,
The Neon Judgement,
Funky Four + One,
The Durutti Column,
The Kinks,
the Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Roxy Music,
The Gories,
D'Angelo,
Television Personalities,
ABBA,
Marine Girls,
Urselle,
The Skatalites,
PIL,
Donald Byrd,
KRS-One,
Bob Dylan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Names,
Minny Pops,
Deepchord,
The Fugs,
Bauhaus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Letta Mbulu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Susan Cadogan,
Rod Modell,
Ituana,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Japan,
Wasted Youth,
Gong,
Ohio Players,
Blake Baxter,
Moebius,
The Gap Band,
Depeche Mode,
The Doors,
Sun City Girls,
Mad Mike,
Funkadelic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Toasters,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kenny Larkin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Youth Brigade,
Althea and Donna,
The Star Department,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.