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 Russia and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Eyeless In Gaza to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Tim Buckley,
Ronnie Foster,
Hasil Adkins,
cv313,
The Divine Comedy,
The Move,
The Black Dice,
Severed Heads,
Carl Craig,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cal Tjader,
Magma,
The Vogues,
The Buckinghams,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dark Day,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deepchord,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
Dead Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
Wally Richardson,
Mantronix,
Brick,
Essential Logic,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Wyatt,
Terry Callier,
Letta Mbulu,
JFA,
Soft Machine,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Germs,
Leonard Cohen,
Danielle Patucci,
Mars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oneida,
Kurtis Blow,
Cecil Taylor,
Zapp,
The Birthday Party,
John Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Sonic Youth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Tremeloes,
Marvin Gaye,
Henry Cow,
The Wake,
The Mummies,
Rites of Spring,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.