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 Korea South and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bobby Womack to the grunge 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Index,
The Human League,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Seeds,
Danielle Patucci,
Symarip,
Lakeside,
Das Ding,
The J.B.'s,
John Foxx,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sex Pistols,
Cecil Taylor,
Roy Ayers,
Ten City,
Lyres,
Crispian St. Peters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Parrish,
Cymande,
Buzzcocks,
Section 25,
Harry Pussy,
Hasil Adkins,
The Golliwogs,
The Raincoats,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wire,
The Trojans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aloha Tigers,
The Victims,
Aswad,
Mo-Dettes,
Wasted Youth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sonic Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dark Day,
Cheater Slicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nas,
Pylon,
The Toasters,
Ornette Coleman,
Negative Approach,
Intrusion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
China Crisis,
The Mojo Men,
Hashim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare,
Alphaville,
Icehouse,
Gang Gang Dance,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.