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 Argentina and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Fugs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Television,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yellowson,
Barry Ungar,
The Doors,
Jacob Miller,
Laurel Aitken,
Ten City,
Cheater Slicks,
Excepter,
cv313,
Skriet,
B.T. Express,
Skarface,
Tubeway Army,
Motorama,
Jeff Mills,
Sun Ra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ken Boothe,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
Eli Mardock,
Ronan,
Bill Wells,
The Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Y Pants,
Scratch Acid,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soft Cell,
The Blues Magoos,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Johnny Clarke,
Procol Harum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wire,
Country Teasers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Youth Brigade,
The Misunderstood,
Ultravox,
Depeche Mode,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Symarip,
Connie Case,
Todd Terry,
The Happenings,
Man Eating Sloth,
Audionom,
A Certain Ratio,
Gong,
48th St. Collective,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.