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 Taiwan and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pere Ubu to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Moleskins,
Zapp,
Laurel Aitken,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radio Birdman,
Procol Harum,
Severed Heads,
Infiniti,
Gabor Szabo,
Bill Near,
the Normal,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dave Clark Five,
Anthony Braxton,
Mad Mike,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eddi Front,
Khruangbin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
Avey Tare,
Arab on Radar,
Blancmange,
Gregory Isaacs,
a-ha,
Neu!,
Echospace,
Spandau Ballet,
Das Ding,
The Sound,
Archie Shepp,
Ituana,
T.S.O.L.,
Vainqueur,
Newcleus,
Sarah Menescal,
Mars,
Fear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sam Rivers,
Scion,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Moon,
Kool Moe Dee,
These Immortal Souls,
David McCallum,
Swell Maps,
Alton Ellis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barry Ungar,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
Gastr Del Sol,
June Days,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.