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 El Salvador and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The New Christs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Crime,
the Soft Cell,
Cecil Taylor,
Mad Mike,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Dolphy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Bananas,
Marc Almond,
Ken Boothe,
Soft Machine,
Suicide,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rosa Yemen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Buckinghams,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mandrill,
Scan 7,
Bobby Womack,
Connie Case,
The Monks,
Jerry's Kids,
Metal Thangz,
Gabor Szabo,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Christie,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Red Krayola,
Icehouse,
Iggy Pop,
Dark Day,
Albert Ayler,
The Vogues,
Black Pus,
Spandau Ballet,
The Saints,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Doors,
Eden Ahbez,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
June of 44,
Liliput,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Prince Buster,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pharoah Sanders,
Das Ding,
Scientists,
Don Cherry,
Reuben Wilson,
The Last Poets,
The Dave Clark Five,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radio Birdman,
Sonic Youth,
Bill Near,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.