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 Djibouti and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 Minnie Riperton to the grunge 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
New Age Steppers,
The Doors,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang of Four,
D'Angelo,
Hardrive,
Hashim,
Byron Stingily,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Christie,
Animal Collective,
Barrington Levy,
Lower 48,
The Buckinghams,
Urselle,
Peter & Gordon,
Surgeon,
The Gun Club,
The Motions,
Interpol,
Marcia Griffiths,
Peter and Kerry,
Deadbeat,
The Durutti Column,
John Foxx,
Pierre Henry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
Basic Channel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Donald Byrd,
Jimmy McGriff,
Angry Samoans,
Piero Umiliani,
The Pop Group,
Swell Maps,
Janne Schatter,
Popol Vuh,
Excepter,
Porter Ricks,
Dark Day,
Alton Ellis,
Stereo Dub,
Audionom,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barry Ungar,
Bob Dylan,
L. Decosne,
The Toasters,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Searchers,
Rosa Yemen,
Q65,
Whodini,
Fad Gadget,
Rapeman,
Country Teasers,
Ornette Coleman,
Flipper,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.