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 Egypt and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Frankie Knuckles to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Last Poets,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minnie Riperton,
Morten Harket,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Metal Thangz,
Hasil Adkins,
Lakeside,
Cal Tjader,
Delta 5,
Roy Ayers,
MC5,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amon Düül,
T. Rex,
Hardrive,
The United States of America,
Tubeway Army,
Joey Negro,
Harpers Bizarre,
Slick Rick,
The Doors,
Jandek,
John Cale,
Peter and Kerry,
Unwound,
Freddie Wadling,
Boredoms,
June of 44,
Tropical Tobacco,
Trumans Water,
Brick,
Oblivians,
Soft Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
Robert Wyatt,
Eddi Front,
Gang Starr,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Archie Shepp,
Mars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Liliput,
Hashim,
Das Ding,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crime,
Gang of Four,
Kas Product,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.