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 Paraguay and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lalo Schifrin to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Pole,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lindisfarne,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smoke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Black Dice,
David McCallum,
Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heaven 17,
Trumans Water,
Fatback Band,
Schoolly D,
Terry Callier,
B.T. Express,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Suicide,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tommy Roe,
Skarface,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ohio Players,
Charles Mingus,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joy Division,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rotary Connection,
LL Cool J,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Lalann,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Outsiders,
Lightning Bolt,
Susan Cadogan,
Erykah Badu,
Porter Ricks,
The Gories,
Rapeman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fortunes,
The Pop Group,
Sight & Sound,
Brand Nubian,
The Martian,
Throbbing Gristle,
Arthur Verocai,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tim Buckley,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.