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 Estonia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Almond to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
B.T. Express,
Barrington Levy,
Television,
Black Moon,
The Music Machine,
Juan Atkins,
The Index,
Lebanon Hanover,
Junior Murvin,
Maurizio,
Robert Hood,
K-Klass,
Scott Walker,
Anthony Braxton,
Hashim,
The Mojo Men,
Average White Band,
Joy Division,
The Birthday Party,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scion,
Ornette Coleman,
Scan 7,
Leonard Cohen,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultimate Spinach,
Thee Headcoats,
Fela Kuti,
Khruangbin,
Eve St. Jones,
Aaron Thompson,
Q and Not U,
The Velvet Underground,
The New Christs,
John Cale,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Archie Shepp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
June Days,
Urselle,
Absolute Body Control,
Skriet,
The Young Rascals,
Intrusion,
Joensuu 1685,
Mr. Review,
Terry Callier,
Zero Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cramps,
Bob Dylan,
Fluxion,
Bronski Beat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soulsonic Force,
LL Cool J,
The Star Department,
Eden Ahbez,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cluster,
Pagans,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.