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 Mongolia and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Connie Case to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
The Slits,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sam Rivers,
Lower 48,
Grauzone,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Babytalk,
Qualms,
The Zeros,
Juan Atkins,
Essential Logic,
Urselle,
The Smoke,
Eric Dolphy,
K-Klass,
Blancmange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
10cc,
Sun City Girls,
Dennis Brown,
Rekid,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
kango's stein massive,
Harry Pussy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Holt,
Banda Bassotti,
Pere Ubu,
Sight & Sound,
Sister Nancy,
Ituana,
The Fuzztones,
Nico,
The Dirtbombs,
Metal Thangz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pierre Henry,
Anthony Braxton,
Jacob Miller,
Iggy Pop,
Sixth Finger,
Schoolly D,
Outsiders,
Brass Construction,
Deadbeat,
Marc Almond,
Desert Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lindisfarne,
Todd Terry,
The Litter,
Average White Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
A Certain Ratio,
Masters at Work,
L. Decosne,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.