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 Solomon Islands and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bang On A Can to the disco 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Cell,
Altered Images,
Negative Approach,
Anakelly,
U.S. Maple,
The Names,
cv313,
Spandau Ballet,
Roxette,
Judy Mowatt,
Symarip,
Fugazi,
Sunsets and Hearts,
E-Dancer,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Absolute Body Control,
Mad Mike,
Marcia Griffiths,
Zero Boys,
Howard Jones,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott Heron,
Outsiders,
Pussy Galore,
Marine Girls,
June of 44,
Robert Hood,
Radio Birdman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Warsaw,
JFA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Modern Lovers,
Bootsy Collins,
Byron Stingily,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lindisfarne,
Amon Düül II,
David Axelrod,
Cluster,
Roy Ayers,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cowsills,
The Vogues,
Lou Christie,
Infiniti,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sam Rivers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
The Count Five,
Lou Reed,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.