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 Andorra and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Chris & Cosey to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
the Sonics,
Pierre Henry,
Blake Baxter,
Soul II Soul,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ossler,
Khruangbin,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Grandmaster Flash,
Unwound,
Angry Samoans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Youth Brigade,
Duran Duran,
Mr. Review,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smiths,
Tubeway Army,
Mars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Motorama,
The Fugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Erykah Badu,
Hardrive,
Panda Bear,
The Seeds,
E-Dancer,
Yusef Lateef,
Swell Maps,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Schoolly D,
Camberwell Now,
the Human League,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
Lakeside,
Deadbeat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Agent Orange,
Grey Daturas,
The Motions,
Jacques Brel,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Human League,
The Gun Club,
The Flesh Eaters,
Interpol,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
Subhumans,
The Mummies,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
Nation of Ulysses,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.