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 France and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Pantaleimon to the crunk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Connie Case,
Jerry Gold Smith,
kango's stein massive,
John Coltrane,
the Sonics,
The Mojo Men,
John Lydon,
Anthony Braxton,
Quando Quango,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Grass Roots,
the Swans,
Lower 48,
The Martian,
Juan Atkins,
Bluetip,
Aaron Thompson,
Stiv Bators,
Pole,
Jimmy McGriff,
Blossom Toes,
Minnie Riperton,
Trumans Water,
Pere Ubu,
Main Source,
Rufus Thomas,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kayak,
Y Pants,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper,
Franke,
The Skatalites,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
the Soft Cell,
Crime,
Sun Ra,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fuzztones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
It's A Beautiful Day,
June Days,
Duran Duran,
The Misunderstood,
Japan,
Alton Ellis,
Arcadia,
Unwound,
Ossler,
Roger Hodgson,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blackbyrds,
The Techniques,
Idris Muhammad,
Funky Four + One,
Kerri Chandler,
Lyres,
Bauhaus,
Don Cherry,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.