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 Cyprus and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Glambeats Corp. to the dance 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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Bob Dylan,
Y Pants,
Josef K,
Joe Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra,
The Raincoats,
The United States of America,
Swell Maps,
Arthur Verocai,
Popol Vuh,
EPMD,
Blossom Toes,
The Happenings,
Duran Duran,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tom Boy,
Bootsy Collins,
Arab on Radar,
Whodini,
Faraquet,
Make Up,
JFA,
Circle Jerks,
Al Stewart,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June Days,
Flipper,
Japan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bang On A Can,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alison Limerick,
Fat Boys,
Nils Olav,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
Swans,
Sonic Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gap Band,
Wire,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grauzone,
Symarip,
Unrelated Segments,
Roger Hodgson,
Carl Craig,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wally Richardson,
Parry Music,
The Barracudas,
Pantaleimon,
Dead Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Simply Red,
Glenn Branca,
Depeche Mode,
The Cure,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.