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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pharoah Sanders to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Moody Blues,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
Scratch Acid,
Albert Ayler,
Gang of Four,
Accadde A,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
The Black Dice,
the Human League,
Monolake,
Fugazi,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Neon Judgement,
Au Pairs,
R.M.O.,
The Offenders,
The Move,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Divine Comedy,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fugs,
Ken Boothe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scan 7,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cowsills,
Jimmy McGriff,
Colin Newman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Star Department,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Boz Scaggs,
The Techniques,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Bill Wells,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Electric Prunes,
Scrapy,
Neu!,
New Age Steppers,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Tremeloes,
The Sound,
B.T. Express,
Yellowson,
Technova,
Quantec,
Niagra,
Fad Gadget,
Anakelly,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cecil Taylor,
James White and The Blacks,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.