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 Zambia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Bananas to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minutemen,
Agent Orange,
The Alarm Clocks,
This Heat,
The Invisible,
Henry Cow,
Monks,
The Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Pop Group,
Essential Logic,
Pylon,
The Cowsills,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
Glambeats Corp.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Slits,
Mo-Dettes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shuggie Otis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joe Smooth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
48th St. Collective,
Crime,
Kayak,
Subhumans,
The Names,
Fluxion,
X-101,
Nick Fraelich,
Hot Snakes,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eli Mardock,
Royal Trux,
The Dead C,
Blancmange,
Anthony Braxton,
Model 500,
Colin Newman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minnie Riperton,
Camouflage,
Toni Rubio,
Dead Boys,
Jandek,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Funky Four + One,
Nirvana,
Arcadia,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Association,
The Fire Engines,
Popol Vuh,
Jerry Gold Smith,
MDC,
Parry Music,
The Fortunes,
Suicide,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.