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 Peru and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Drexciya,
The Leaves,
Kool Moe Dee,
The American Breed,
Magazine,
The Angels of Light,
a-ha,
Maurizio,
Banda Bassotti,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amon Düül II,
Nils Olav,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Toni Rubio,
Steve Hackett,
Fat Boys,
Clear Light,
Buzzcocks,
Mo-Dettes,
Mantronix,
The Knickerbockers,
Ohio Players,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Hood,
Dark Day,
Chrome,
Wolf Eyes,
Rakim,
Can,
Icehouse,
Gang Gang Dance,
Inner City,
A Certain Ratio,
The Velvet Underground,
Pagans,
Lucky Dragons,
The Birthday Party,
Yaz,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Japan,
Stetsasonic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
Sandy B,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mars,
The Buckinghams,
Livin' Joy,
Warren Ellis,
Roger Hodgson,
Masters at Work,
Traffic Nightmare,
Patti Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Das Ding,
The Sound,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.