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 Lebanon and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Chris Corsano,
Cecil Taylor,
Maleditus Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Glenn Branca,
Cameo,
Soft Machine,
Surgeon,
U.S. Maple,
Quantec,
The Gun Club,
Carl Craig,
Max Romeo,
The Music Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Slick Rick,
Hasil Adkins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blancmange,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Harmonia,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deepchord,
Thee Headcoats,
Outsiders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arthur Verocai,
Michelle Simonal,
Man Parrish,
Mission of Burma,
Stetsasonic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Au Pairs,
Bluetip,
Tommy Roe,
Charles Mingus,
The Divine Comedy,
Stiv Bators,
Black Bananas,
Make Up,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pole,
Ituana,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Real Kids,
Mandrill,
Sällskapet,
Sun Ra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joe Smooth,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.