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 Rwanda and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Pierre Henry,
Tears for Fears,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Starr,
Thee Headcoats,
The Walker Brothers,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
The Slits,
Intrusion,
Unrelated Segments,
The Toasters,
Eric Dolphy,
The Martian,
Robert Wyatt,
Fluxion,
Zero Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Agent Orange,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
Juan Atkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arthur Verocai,
The Index,
The Selecter,
Kayak,
Rites of Spring,
the Slits,
Underground Resistance,
Bootsy Collins,
Cal Tjader,
Deadbeat,
Accadde A,
The Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
Pulsallama,
Model 500,
Jimmy McGriff,
ABC,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Leaves,
Soft Machine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeff Lynne,
JFA,
Toni Rubio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Siglo XX,
Panda Bear,
The Kinks,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.