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 Finland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Desert Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Maleditus Sound,
Simply Red,
the Normal,
Deadbeat,
Cheater Slicks,
CMW,
Marmalade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
Faraquet,
Skaos,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scott Walker,
The Gap Band,
Swans,
Jandek,
Fugazi,
Andrew Hill,
Soft Cell,
The Residents,
Michelle Simonal,
Monolake,
Amazonics,
Soul II Soul,
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
UT,
48th St. Collective,
Electric Prunes,
Todd Terry,
Pole,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Names,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Womack,
Josef K,
The Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
Jeff Mills,
Magazine,
Dawn Penn,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Prince Buster,
Deepchord,
Desert Stars,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pulsallama,
Scratch Acid,
PIL,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
the Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
EPMD,
Bill Near,
The Martian,
The American Breed,
Jawbox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.