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 Latvia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gong to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Moon,
The Cure,
Jawbox,
The Moody Blues,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Busters,
David Axelrod,
T. Rex,
New Age Steppers,
The Searchers,
Brick,
EPMD,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Flag,
John Foxx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June Days,
Ronnie Foster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Trumans Water,
Suicide,
Bill Wells,
The New Christs,
Bobby Womack,
DNA,
LL Cool J,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minnie Riperton,
Mr. Review,
Gerry Rafferty,
Das Ding,
The Standells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pylon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Duran Duran,
The Fuzztones,
The Fall,
Porter Ricks,
Hoover,
Eden Ahbez,
Bad Manners,
Davy DMX,
Scratch Acid,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick May,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rod Modell,
MC5,
Half Japanese,
Thee Headcoats,
Ituana,
Jeff Lynne,
Hardrive,
The Wake,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.