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 Mauritania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Massinfluence to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
The Dead C,
Steve Hackett,
Rites of Spring,
June of 44,
Oneida,
Aloha Tigers,
The Star Department,
Hot Snakes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
CMW,
Crime,
One Last Wish,
Infiniti,
The Move,
Index,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra,
Average White Band,
ABBA,
Swans,
Fluxion,
Clear Light,
Gang Green,
Roy Ayers,
James White and The Blacks,
Simply Red,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mary Jane Girls,
The J.B.'s,
The Human League,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Wasted Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Icehouse,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dual Sessions,
Bill Wells,
Cameo,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Monolake,
Panda Bear,
The Busters,
Das Ding,
The Dave Clark Five,
Guru Guru,
Circle Jerks,
Scientists,
Joyce Sims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.