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 Azerbaijan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Mars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Desert Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jimmy McGriff,
Andrew Hill,
Underground Resistance,
Pere Ubu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Intrusion,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Parry Music,
Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
LL Cool J,
The Raincoats,
Japan,
Soulsonic Force,
Eden Ahbez,
Dead Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ponytail,
Smog,
Nico,
Brick,
The Martian,
The Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Cheater Slicks,
Y Pants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Ronan,
Organ,
The Count Five,
Cecil Taylor,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Mills,
Marshall Jefferson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reagan Youth,
Mandrill,
Susan Cadogan,
Flipper,
Animal Collective,
Easy Going,
The Busters,
The Gladiators,
Erasure,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz,
R.M.O.,
The Leaves,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.