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 United Kingdom and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Taipei and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bush Tetras,
The Black Dice,
The Raincoats,
Flipper,
Radio Birdman,
Lungfish,
Pantytec,
Suicide,
One Last Wish,
the Slits,
Scratch Acid,
Camberwell Now,
The Divine Comedy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minnie Riperton,
Barclay James Harvest,
Groovy Waters,
Yazoo,
Boredoms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brass Construction,
Second Layer,
Black Moon,
Siglo XX,
Kevin Saunderson,
Henry Cow,
Oblivians,
The Residents,
Ludus,
Reagan Youth,
DNA,
Blancmange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dead Boys,
Babytalk,
Newcleus,
Liliput,
Soulsonic Force,
Fat Boys,
D'Angelo,
Dark Day,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cecil Taylor,
Moss Icon,
Black Bananas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mark Hollis,
Joyce Sims,
Deakin,
The Pretty Things,
Jandek,
Maleditus Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-Ray Spex,
Kurtis Blow,
Josef K,
Robert Görl,
Stiv Bators,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.