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 Estonia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Arcadia,
Popol Vuh,
Scrapy,
Marine Girls,
Eric Dolphy,
Barbara Tucker,
Wolf Eyes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Parry Music,
Aloha Tigers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantytec,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Heaven 17,
The Velvet Underground,
Fluxion,
Buzzcocks,
The Fugs,
F. McDonald,
The Black Dice,
Unwound,
Bill Wells,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hoover,
Mission of Burma,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Techniques,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Pus,
The Happenings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sarah Menescal,
Wally Richardson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Last Poets,
Skaos,
Isaac Hayes,
Sex Pistols,
Kas Product,
Panda Bear,
Metal Thangz,
Blossom Toes,
Sällskapet,
Dennis Brown,
London Community Gospel Choir,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Misunderstood,
Icehouse,
The Durutti Column,
In Retrospect,
Amazonics,
The Blues Magoos,
The Standells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Beau Brummels,
Pierre Henry,
Ponytail,
kango's stein massive,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.