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 Korea South and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the jazz 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Fania All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ponytail,
Moebius,
Ossler,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
F. McDonald,
Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Franke,
Sixth Finger,
Magazine,
Bobby Byrd,
X-101,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare,
Con Funk Shun,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sam Rivers,
Kas Product,
The Leaves,
E-Dancer,
Spandau Ballet,
Al Stewart,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rufus Thomas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
48th St. Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Andrew Hill,
Pierre Henry,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Funkadelic,
Simply Red,
CMW,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jandek,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Qualms,
Masters at Work,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Don Cherry,
Ultra Naté,
Arthur Verocai,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Black Dice,
The Tremeloes,
Gabor Szabo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sandy B,
Ralphi Rosario,
New Order,
Chrome,
Byron Stingily,
Duran Duran,
The Golliwogs,
Schoolly D,
Black Sheep,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.