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 Oman and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Flash Fearless to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
The Wake,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Peter and Kerry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skaos,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy Collins,
Scott Walker,
Agitation Free,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dead C,
Todd Terry,
X-Ray Spex,
The Last Poets,
The Stooges,
Sex Pistols,
Ice-T,
Urselle,
Faust,
Essential Logic,
Adolescents,
Smog,
Boz Scaggs,
Henry Cow,
Stiv Bators,
Reuben Wilson,
Radiohead,
Scion,
Sixth Finger,
Tubeway Army,
Delon & Dalcan,
Amon Düül II,
Terry Callier,
Pussy Galore,
Rapeman,
The Slackers,
Brass Construction,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yellowson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joyce Sims,
Jacob Miller,
Bronski Beat,
The Offenders,
Gang of Four,
Bush Tetras,
The Mojo Men,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Donald Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.