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 Congo and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar 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 X-101 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Joyce Sims,
Drexciya,
The Kinks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The United States of America,
Yaz,
The American Breed,
Monks,
Eurythmics,
B.T. Express,
Cecil Taylor,
cv313,
Pantaleimon,
Surgeon,
Flash Fearless,
Niagra,
Basic Channel,
Skriet,
Kurtis Blow,
Khruangbin,
Ludus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter & Gordon,
Maleditus Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Martian,
T.S.O.L.,
Suicide,
Black Flag,
Reuben Wilson,
Crash Course in Science,
Sonny Sharrock,
New York Dolls,
Blake Baxter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
a-ha,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Monolake,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Delta 5,
Liliput,
Hoover,
Letta Mbulu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Average White Band,
Jacques Brel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nas,
The Cowsills,
Faraquet,
The Techniques,
The Mojo Men,
The Golliwogs,
Scott Walker,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Lynne,
Ponytail,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.