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 Barbados and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Country Teasers 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Seeds,
Moebius,
Symarip,
Zapp,
The Wake,
Erasure,
Wings,
Panda Bear,
Lower 48,
Animal Collective,
Kurtis Blow,
Hardrive,
Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Flipper,
Charles Mingus,
Sandy B,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Metal Thangz,
Monolake,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eric Dolphy,
Lyres,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sun City Girls,
Babytalk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lightning Bolt,
Jesper Dahlback,
H. Thieme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Half Japanese,
Drive Like Jehu,
FM Einheit,
Marc Almond,
Sällskapet,
Liliput,
Swans,
Cal Tjader,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slick Rick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Main Source,
Bobby Womack,
MDC,
The Evens,
Neil Young,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Matthew Halsall,
Cluster,
Jacques Brel,
The Red Krayola,
The Victims,
Gabor Szabo,
The American Breed,
Oneida,
Man Parrish,
Sun Ra,
Don Cherry,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.