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 Guinea-Bissau and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deepchord 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suburban Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
Grey Daturas,
Panda Bear,
Barclay James Harvest,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ice-T,
Mary Jane Girls,
The New Christs,
Q65,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Index,
Scratch Acid,
Nik Kershaw,
Joyce Sims,
Scion,
Arthur Verocai,
Warsaw,
Franke,
Jacob Miller,
The Kinks,
Bad Manners,
Unwound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Busters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pierre Henry,
Vainqueur,
The Music Machine,
Monolake,
Albert Ayler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cal Tjader,
Tropical Tobacco,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
Toni Rubio,
Deepchord,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minor Threat,
Mr. Review,
Section 25,
Newcleus,
Technova,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare,
The Blackbyrds,
Dark Day,
Lungfish,
Yazoo,
Eric Copeland,
Black Bananas,
Slave,
Malaria!,
Symarip,
Aswad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bill Wells,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.