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 Chad and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Fela Kuti to the rock 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Slick Rick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Accadde A,
Godley & Creme,
The Doobie Brothers,
Easy Going,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Duran Duran,
Desert Stars,
Jacques Brel,
Mark Hollis,
Don Cherry,
Bootsy Collins,
ABC,
Kurtis Blow,
Guru Guru,
Outsiders,
Dave Gahan,
Graham Central Station,
Metal Thangz,
The Red Krayola,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sexual Harrassment,
Erasure,
Crime,
the Swans,
Brick,
Q and Not U,
Nas,
Crispy Ambulance,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dave Clark Five,
Index,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grey Daturas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
LL Cool J,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Flag,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Sherman,
Laurel Aitken,
Man Parrish,
Rosa Yemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sarah Menescal,
Supertramp,
Charles Mingus,
The Victims,
Ice-T,
Liliput,
Malaria!,
Electric Prunes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tim Buckley,
Ohio Players,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.