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 Jordan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Lindisfarne to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
Excepter,
The Fortunes,
John Foxx,
Khruangbin,
The Invisible,
Fad Gadget,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Von Mondo,
The Searchers,
Skaos,
Glenn Branca,
Camouflage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Panda Bear,
Stiv Bators,
Tres Demented,
K-Klass,
June Days,
Sister Nancy,
Todd Rundgren,
Wally Richardson,
Q65,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Christie,
Lyres,
Sam Rivers,
UT,
The Techniques,
John Holt,
Connie Case,
Kas Product,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pierre Henry,
Wings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Selecter,
Motorama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lindisfarne,
10cc,
The Pretty Things,
Steve Hackett,
Anakelly,
Gabor Szabo,
DJ Sneak,
Echospace,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Q and Not U,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Groovy Waters,
The Red Krayola,
Faraquet,
Audionom,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.