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 Kuwait and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Talk Talk to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nick Fraelich,
Cymande,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joensuu 1685,
Erasure,
The Modern Lovers,
The Victims,
Carl Craig,
The Raincoats,
Fad Gadget,
Eve St. Jones,
The Doors,
DJ Style,
Pantaleimon,
Archie Shepp,
The Cramps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maurizio,
Cecil Taylor,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Normal,
John Holt,
Boogie Down Productions,
Urselle,
June Days,
Lakeside,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Zero Boys,
the Germs,
Marine Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Toasters,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Offenders,
the Slits,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echospace,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
This Heat,
Prince Buster,
Zapp,
Tom Boy,
Popol Vuh,
the Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
The Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
The Fugs,
Skarface,
Boredoms,
Aural Exciters,
Barry Ungar,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.