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 Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Electric Prunes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Japan,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Halsall,
The Move,
Suicide,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flipper,
Radio Birdman,
The Fuzztones,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Hill,
Dawn Penn,
Mars,
Eli Mardock,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grey Daturas,
The Residents,
Barbara Tucker,
Public Enemy,
Gang Starr,
The Fortunes,
Anthony Braxton,
June of 44,
UT,
Intrusion,
The American Breed,
Quadrant,
the Association,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Funkadelic,
Bluetip,
The Trojans,
Godley & Creme,
The J.B.'s,
Index,
Mark Hollis,
Sun City Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Rufus Thomas,
Minnie Riperton,
The Music Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Altered Images,
John Holt,
The Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Section 25,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blues Magoos,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Bar-Kays,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bauhaus,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.