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 Bangladesh and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 David Bowie 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 Sparks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Circle Jerks,
Con Funk Shun,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gong,
The Pretty Things,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Germs,
Eve St. Jones,
This Heat,
Moby Grape,
Roxette,
Neu!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Motorama,
Popol Vuh,
Wally Richardson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Sheep,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Halsall,
Malaria!,
Moebius,
Cybotron,
The Barracudas,
Fat Boys,
Rotary Connection,
Suicide,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crime,
Quadrant,
James White and The Blacks,
Joyce Sims,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
Crash Course in Science,
Silicon Teens,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Organ,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tommy Roe,
Procol Harum,
Boogie Down Productions,
L. Decosne,
Main Source,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grey Daturas,
Alphaville,
Faraquet,
Eric Copeland,
Freddie Wadling,
Mission of Burma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
10cc,
Los Fastidios,
KRS-One,
ABC,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.