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 Kiribati and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Kurtis Blow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
Warsaw,
Brass Construction,
Babytalk,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sex Pistols,
Monolake,
Lindisfarne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Sherman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Slick Rick,
Dennis Brown,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Sheep,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alphaville,
Moebius,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Camberwell Now,
Minny Pops,
Byron Stingily,
Ossler,
Chris Corsano,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Piero Umiliani,
Bad Manners,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Letta Mbulu,
Amon Düül II,
Make Up,
Sam Rivers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lyres,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Offenders,
Mandrill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABC,
Joyce Sims,
Al Stewart,
The United States of America,
Quadrant,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Blake Baxter,
The Pretty Things,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Depeche Mode,
PIL,
Terry Callier,
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.