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 Saudi Arabia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül II,
Panda Bear,
Newcleus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unwound,
Skarface,
Aswad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Residents,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Copeland,
Swans,
The Grass Roots,
Royal Trux,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott Heron,
Symarip,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul II Soul,
Patti Smith,
The Raincoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scrapy,
Hoover,
Aaron Thompson,
The Angels of Light,
Mantronix,
The Zeros,
DJ Sneak,
Spoonie Gee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mission of Burma,
Nico,
The Associates,
Ultravox,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Fraelich,
Television,
Suicide,
the Association,
Bluetip,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fela Kuti,
The Red Krayola,
Television Personalities,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Morten Harket,
Boogie Down Productions,
New Age Steppers,
The Fall,
Eurythmics,
The Slackers,
The Wake,
OOIOO,
Whodini,
Bobby Byrd,
James White and The Blacks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.