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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dual Sessions to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Patti Smith,
Rites of Spring,
John Holt,
The Seeds,
Royal Trux,
June of 44,
The United States of America,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fuzztones,
Magazine,
Graham Central Station,
Joe Finger,
Gong,
Japan,
Babytalk,
Lungfish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Durutti Column,
The Wake,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ohio Players,
Yellowson,
H. Thieme,
EPMD,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Index,
Sight & Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Chris & Cosey,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mo-Dettes,
Juan Atkins,
Minor Threat,
LL Cool J,
Cecil Taylor,
L. Decosne,
Roy Ayers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Monochrome Set,
Morten Harket,
Youth Brigade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marmalade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grey Daturas,
This Heat,
Intrusion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Maleditus Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Last Poets,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.