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 Iceland and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Tim Buckley to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
kango's stein massive,
KRS-One,
Brick,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Animal Collective,
Lungfish,
Neil Young,
The Red Krayola,
Ludus,
Terry Callier,
Colin Newman,
Toni Rubio,
Juan Atkins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nils Olav,
Josef K,
The Cowsills,
Donny Hathaway,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tommy Roe,
Crooked Eye,
Essential Logic,
DNA,
Adolescents,
Surgeon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
D'Angelo,
The Durutti Column,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ohio Players,
Quadrant,
This Heat,
Suicide,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Almond,
Barrington Levy,
Patti Smith,
Mantronix,
Wally Richardson,
Grauzone,
Easy Going,
Erykah Badu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Todd Rundgren,
Dead Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
The Wake,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Television Personalities,
The Doobie Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultra Naté,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fatback Band,
Make Up,
Royal Trux,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.