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 Malta and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tom Boy,
Negative Approach,
The Blackbyrds,
K-Klass,
Pylon,
Fela Kuti,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scion,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cluster,
China Crisis,
John Cale,
Crispy Ambulance,
Maurizio,
Black Moon,
X-101,
Marcia Griffiths,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moby Grape,
The Gap Band,
Jeff Mills,
The Residents,
Todd Rundgren,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Litter,
The Saints,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
AZ,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wire,
Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobby Byrd,
Faraquet,
Warsaw,
Smog,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scott Walker,
The Moleskins,
Morten Harket,
Flash Fearless,
Sandy B,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Byron Stingily,
Camberwell Now,
Rod Modell,
Japan,
Minny Pops,
The Birthday Party,
DNA,
Glenn Branca,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Y Pants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.