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 Mozambique and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Rosa Yemen to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Nirvana,
Marmalade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Glenn Branca,
The Searchers,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Stooges,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
DJ Sneak,
Susan Cadogan,
Kenny Larkin,
Main Source,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
Sixth Finger,
Half Japanese,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smoke,
Organ,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultimate Spinach,
Howard Jones,
Freddie Wadling,
Graham Central Station,
Radiohead,
Zapp,
The Vogues,
Nik Kershaw,
Siglo XX,
Al Stewart,
Chris Corsano,
Visage,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Slits,
Bill Near,
The Associates,
B.T. Express,
The Wake,
David Axelrod,
Sandy B,
Smog,
Rakim,
Nico,
a-ha,
Lalo Schifrin,
New York Dolls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerri Chandler,
Derrick Morgan,
Jerry's Kids,
The Raincoats,
Unrelated Segments,
Mandrill,
Bill Wells,
Circle Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronan,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.