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 Zambia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Black Pus to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Maurizio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New Order,
Isaac Hayes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Fraelich,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry's Kids,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-Ray Spex,
The Names,
The Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
T.S.O.L.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Archie Shepp,
The Slits,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ossler,
Amazonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Slackers,
Aswad,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Martian,
Man Parrish,
Eden Ahbez,
Minnie Riperton,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Sonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hardrive,
Young Marble Giants,
Moebius,
Shoche,
the Human League,
Lower 48,
The Monks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
Susan Cadogan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Anakelly,
Donald Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Nas,
Make Up,
Black Pus,
Patti Smith,
KRS-One,
The Raincoats,
Vladislav Delay,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Little Man,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.