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 San Marino and from Woodstock.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Supertramp to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Tears for Fears,
Smog,
Desert Stars,
Interpol,
Hardrive,
Erasure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radio Birdman,
Popol Vuh,
Crime,
Amon Düül II,
Boogie Down Productions,
Panda Bear,
The Dirtbombs,
Moby Grape,
Eve St. Jones,
Icehouse,
Ronan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Last Poets,
Kerrie Biddell,
KRS-One,
Kenny Larkin,
Kurtis Blow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nirvana,
Roxy Music,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Deadbeat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Association,
The Gladiators,
Boz Scaggs,
Man Parrish,
The Techniques,
Jerry's Kids,
Sam Rivers,
Ultra Naté,
Johnny Clarke,
Bill Wells,
Scan 7,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deepchord,
H. Thieme,
Warren Ellis,
L. Decosne,
K-Klass,
Underground Resistance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Schoolly D,
Iggy Pop,
Carl Craig,
The Busters,
Lower 48,
Stereo Dub,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.