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 Bahrain and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tres Demented to the grime 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Cluster,
Television,
a-ha,
Monks,
Scratch Acid,
Livin' Joy,
Byron Stingily,
The Standells,
Siglo XX,
K-Klass,
Drexciya,
China Crisis,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Sherman,
Pierre Henry,
Aloha Tigers,
Chris & Cosey,
Girls At Our Best!,
Josef K,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Circle Jerks,
T. Rex,
Hasil Adkins,
Royal Trux,
Rotary Connection,
cv313,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxette,
Loose Ends,
Warren Ellis,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Womack,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mummies,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra,
Warsaw,
Joey Negro,
Donny Hathaway,
Malaria!,
Sister Nancy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wire,
Dorothy Ashby,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Divine Comedy,
Alice Coltrane,
Gong,
Newcleus,
Crash Course in Science,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.