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 Liberia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Anthony Braxton to the funk 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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris & Cosey,
Half Japanese,
Peter & Gordon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Görl,
B.T. Express,
Grauzone,
Barbara Tucker,
Negative Approach,
Davy DMX,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Victims,
Crooked Eye,
Connie Case,
Gang of Four,
Joe Finger,
Soft Machine,
D'Angelo,
Henry Cow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Skarface,
Absolute Body Control,
The Durutti Column,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mission of Burma,
Youth Brigade,
Minny Pops,
The Fall,
Black Sheep,
Deadbeat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dual Sessions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rotary Connection,
Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
Yusef Lateef,
The Invisible,
Sandy B,
Sight & Sound,
The Busters,
The Five Americans,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fuzztones,
These Immortal Souls,
Soul II Soul,
The Shadows of Knight,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Camberwell Now,
The Blackbyrds,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.