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 El Salvador and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pharoah Sanders to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
Roxy Music,
Quantec,
Sun City Girls,
Goldenarms,
Vainqueur,
The Real Kids,
Jesper Dahlback,
Howard Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
T.S.O.L.,
Angry Samoans,
Warsaw,
Organ,
Warren Ellis,
AZ,
Crime,
Lebanon Hanover,
Porter Ricks,
Sex Pistols,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Copeland,
The Grass Roots,
The Blackbyrds,
L. Decosne,
Brothers Johnson,
Main Source,
Eden Ahbez,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Moon,
Hot Snakes,
Jerry's Kids,
Dawn Penn,
Bronski Beat,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fire Engines,
Gabor Szabo,
Cybotron,
Basic Channel,
Severed Heads,
EPMD,
Slave,
ABBA,
Prince Buster,
The Moody Blues,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bill Near,
Pere Ubu,
K-Klass,
Oblivians,
Cymande,
Nick Fraelich,
Fluxion,
Grey Daturas,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.