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 Dominican Republic and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Coltrane to the electroclash 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eve St. Jones,
48th St. Collective,
Roy Ayers,
the Association,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deakin,
Simply Red,
The Fugs,
Masters at Work,
Cal Tjader,
CMW,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New York Dolls,
The Real Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Machine,
Roxette,
Bronski Beat,
Pantytec,
Joyce Sims,
Panda Bear,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Doors,
Slave,
The Trojans,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Steve Hackett,
The Offenders,
Hoover,
Fatback Band,
Qualms,
Joey Negro,
Minutemen,
Aaron Thompson,
In Retrospect,
Essential Logic,
Reuben Wilson,
Oblivians,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
PIL,
DJ Style,
Nico,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
X-101,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delta 5,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Country Teasers,
June of 44,
Matthew Halsall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Clear Light,
Shoche,
Don Cherry,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.