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 Mali and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Maurizio,
Wings,
Qualms,
Sixth Finger,
Animal Collective,
Nils Olav,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dirtbombs,
Moby Grape,
Aswad,
Aloha Tigers,
Outsiders,
Organ,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Supertramp,
Bobby Byrd,
Blancmange,
Fad Gadget,
Sam Rivers,
Fugazi,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mantronix,
Scion,
Black Pus,
Archie Shepp,
Black Moon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Certain Ratio,
Slick Rick,
DJ Sneak,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bill Near,
Glenn Branca,
The American Breed,
Soft Machine,
Bush Tetras,
Royal Trux,
Kaleidoscope,
R.M.O.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Hood,
OOIOO,
New York Dolls,
Aaron Thompson,
Ornette Coleman,
The Smiths,
Panda Bear,
Shoche,
The Mummies,
These Immortal Souls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thee Headcoats,
Deakin,
Toni Rubio,
the Swans,
The Last Poets,
Newcleus,
Skriet,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.