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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the jazz 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rod Modell,
The Gladiators,
Y Pants,
The Skatalites,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Slick Rick,
Neu!,
Gregory Isaacs,
Livin' Joy,
Soft Cell,
The Cowsills,
Pulsallama,
ABC,
The Fire Engines,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Subhumans,
Sugar Minott,
Gastr Del Sol,
Inner City,
Metal Thangz,
In Retrospect,
Gong,
PIL,
The Evens,
Eric Copeland,
R.M.O.,
Fatback Band,
Joe Finger,
Deadbeat,
The Victims,
Schoolly D,
The Searchers,
Ultravox,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Velvet Underground,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Deakin,
Fela Kuti,
The Techniques,
Whodini,
Masters at Work,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Bourne,
The Smiths,
Clear Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tomorrow,
Henry Cow,
Mo-Dettes,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lucky Dragons,
Yellowson,
Average White Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kas Product,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.