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 Thailand and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the funk 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Accadde A,
Archie Shepp,
DNA,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Byrd,
Heaven 17,
Tubeway Army,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nirvana,
Kaleidoscope,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Cell,
Subhumans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
The Pretty Things,
One Last Wish,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Walker Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Smiths,
Kayak,
Fad Gadget,
Janne Schatter,
Mandrill,
Eric Copeland,
The Move,
Mr. Review,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monolake,
Pagans,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Essential Logic,
Brothers Johnson,
Harmonia,
Joy Division,
Whodini,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Human League,
Dual Sessions,
Main Source,
DJ Style,
Scott Walker,
Kenny Larkin,
Ossler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Slave,
Sun Ra,
Yusef Lateef,
Spoonie Gee,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rekid,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.