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 Argentina and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Stereo Dub to the crunk 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeff Mills,
Minor Threat,
Yellowson,
Visage,
Glambeats Corp.,
Infiniti,
The Residents,
Neil Young,
Magma,
Sparks,
The Doors,
The American Breed,
Donny Hathaway,
Oblivians,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Freddie Wadling,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Charles Mingus,
Scientists,
Danielle Patucci,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glenn Branca,
June Days,
Pulsallama,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Beau Brummels,
Absolute Body Control,
T. Rex,
Smog,
the Association,
The Mummies,
Thompson Twins,
The Seeds,
the Swans,
the Bar-Kays,
Faraquet,
Suburban Knight,
Sun City Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Ohio Players,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dark Day,
Unwound,
The Music Machine,
Roger Hodgson,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultravox,
Connie Case,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Circle Jerks,
Minutemen,
Slave,
The Sonics,
Underground Resistance,
John Foxx,
Crash Course in Science,
Cymande,
Robert Hood,
The Smoke,
The Five Americans,
Subhumans,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.