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 South Africa and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
Black Sheep,
Bluetip,
The Litter,
Sixth Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Magma,
Camberwell Now,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter & Gordon,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Wyatt,
Terrestrial Tones,
Subhumans,
Y Pants,
John Lydon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bang On A Can,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Second Layer,
Piero Umiliani,
Leonard Cohen,
Marc Almond,
Moby Grape,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Golliwogs,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
New Order,
Donny Hathaway,
JFA,
Wasted Youth,
Supertramp,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sun City Girls,
Wings,
John Foxx,
Rites of Spring,
Lucky Dragons,
Glenn Branca,
Siglo XX,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minnie Riperton,
Angry Samoans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fall,
Camouflage,
Pantaleimon,
Swell Maps,
Mary Jane Girls,
R.M.O.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Tremeloes,
Anthony Braxton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.