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 Canada and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Bobby Sherman to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Bob Dylan,
The Beau Brummels,
The United States of America,
Minutemen,
James White and The Blacks,
Organ,
Erykah Badu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Dave Clark Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Bronski Beat,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ralphi Rosario,
Henry Cow,
Lakeside,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glenn Branca,
Reagan Youth,
Urselle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Adolescents,
Suicide,
Anthony Braxton,
Roy Ayers,
The Music Machine,
Toni Rubio,
Los Fastidios,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Parrish,
The Mummies,
Prince Buster,
Severed Heads,
Half Japanese,
Pulsallama,
The Grass Roots,
Whodini,
The American Breed,
Pagans,
Chris Corsano,
Interpol,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gun Club,
Swell Maps,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sandy B,
Icehouse,
The Busters,
Symarip,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blancmange,
Agitation Free,
Underground Resistance,
Deakin,
Bobby Byrd,
H. Thieme,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.