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 Macedonia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eddi Front to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Al Stewart,
Minnie Riperton,
Animal Collective,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Glambeats Corp.,
Piero Umiliani,
The American Breed,
Suburban Knight,
Brick,
Thee Headcoats,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moss Icon,
The New Christs,
Morten Harket,
Aloha Tigers,
Fear,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marvin Gaye,
Sight & Sound,
Ten City,
Make Up,
Electric Prunes,
Icehouse,
Vainqueur,
Bang On A Can,
Pierre Henry,
Dead Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Symarip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Hood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Connie Case,
Drexciya,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Womack,
Nik Kershaw,
Scratch Acid,
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
Charles Mingus,
Cecil Taylor,
Essential Logic,
the Slits,
Stiv Bators,
Rufus Thomas,
Duran Duran,
Archie Shepp,
Boz Scaggs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Divine Comedy,
Arthur Verocai,
Television,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gichy Dan,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.