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 Czech Republic and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Average White Band to the funk 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
Mars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Unrelated Segments,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül,
Young Marble Giants,
Ice-T,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tom Boy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jawbox,
Marmalade,
Scion,
John Coltrane,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mo-Dettes,
The Associates,
The Monochrome Set,
Little Man,
The Music Machine,
Lower 48,
Los Fastidios,
Peter & Gordon,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bill Wells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
David Axelrod,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Holt,
Heaven 17,
The Young Rascals,
Whodini,
The Dirtbombs,
U.S. Maple,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Patti Smith,
Brick,
Infiniti,
Rakim,
The United States of America,
Thompson Twins,
The Raincoats,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
The Smoke,
Godley & Creme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minor Threat,
The Fall,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sugar Minott,
Aural Exciters,
Clear Light,
Tubeway Army,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.