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 Bolivia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the grunge 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Television Personalities,
Avey Tare,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Image Ltd.,
ABBA,
Hardrive,
Crash Course in Science,
Bob Dylan,
Lungfish,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soft Cell,
B.T. Express,
Cymande,
MC5,
kango's stein massive,
Neu!,
John Foxx,
Aswad,
John Lydon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Technova,
Severed Heads,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Todd Terry,
Ken Boothe,
Urselle,
The Grass Roots,
Matthew Bourne,
Moby Grape,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Slits,
Scientists,
Sixth Finger,
The Moleskins,
Delta 5,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Shoche,
Arcadia,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Magazine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scrapy,
Talk Talk,
Susan Cadogan,
Scion,
Pagans,
Piero Umiliani,
LL Cool J,
Sparks,
the Normal,
Pylon,
Average White Band,
Terry Callier,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.