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 Honduras and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Yellowson to the punk 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Deakin,
the Swans,
Lakeside,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Parry Music,
Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Whodini,
Mars,
DNA,
Kurtis Blow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Cowsills,
48th St. Collective,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Youth Brigade,
Cybotron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oblivians,
The Star Department,
Hasil Adkins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sight & Sound,
Thompson Twins,
DJ Sneak,
Alice Coltrane,
The Raincoats,
John Cale,
The Golliwogs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tres Demented,
Funkadelic,
Vladislav Delay,
Yaz,
Soul II Soul,
Sex Pistols,
Procol Harum,
The Durutti Column,
Wings,
Alison Limerick,
Basic Channel,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
Unrelated Segments,
Nils Olav,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lungfish,
Skaos,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
Marine Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.