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 Slovenia and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron 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 James White and The Blacks to the techno 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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Jawbox,
The Birthday Party,
The Real Kids,
Pierre Henry,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skarface,
Jesper Dahlback,
Girls At Our Best!,
Funky Four + One,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
China Crisis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Warsaw,
Audionom,
Monolake,
Shuggie Otis,
Mission of Burma,
Technova,
Harry Pussy,
Faust,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Bourne,
Warren Ellis,
Eli Mardock,
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
Niagra,
The Beau Brummels,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
New Order,
Bill Near,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gerry Rafferty,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Delta 5,
AZ,
Ronnie Foster,
Connie Case,
The Last Poets,
The Barracudas,
the Human League,
Dead Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
The Blues Magoos,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Zapp,
The Zeros,
The Count Five,
Susan Cadogan,
Schoolly D,
H. Thieme,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultra Naté,
the Sonics,
Quadrant,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.