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 Norway and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the crunk 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
The Fall,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
F. McDonald,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Theoretical Girls,
The Doors,
KRS-One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smiths,
Qualms,
Tomorrow,
Eddi Front,
Ronan,
K-Klass,
The Moody Blues,
Cal Tjader,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Star Department,
R.M.O.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Pus,
Don Cherry,
Erasure,
The Sonics,
The Pop Group,
Schoolly D,
Niagra,
Tubeway Army,
Shuggie Otis,
Amon Düül II,
the Normal,
Accadde A,
China Crisis,
Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
The Names,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amazonics,
Magazine,
Aswad,
Sun Ra,
U.S. Maple,
The Invisible,
Gabor Szabo,
Minutemen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Raincoats,
Rapeman,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Hill,
Intrusion,
Fluxion,
Joe Finger,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Shoche,
Deadbeat,
Brand Nubian,
Archie Shepp,
Maleditus Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.