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 Czech Republic and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Khruangbin to the punk 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
The Stooges,
Isaac Hayes,
Quantec,
Jeru the Damaja,
Connie Case,
Flipper,
The Residents,
Half Japanese,
ABC,
The Litter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Theoretical Girls,
Organ,
Tropical Tobacco,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hashim,
Crispian St. Peters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Interpol,
The Star Department,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rod Modell,
The Invisible,
Y Pants,
Tears for Fears,
Quando Quango,
Deepchord,
Rotary Connection,
Black Sheep,
Lightning Bolt,
Ronnie Foster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Buckinghams,
Gang of Four,
The Gap Band,
Man Parrish,
Harmonia,
The Moleskins,
Sparks,
The Moody Blues,
Spoonie Gee,
Ornette Coleman,
Second Layer,
Stiv Bators,
Crime,
Erasure,
Angry Samoans,
Kerri Chandler,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry's Kids,
Soul II Soul,
Joyce Sims,
Dawn Penn,
Susan Cadogan,
Schoolly D,
Judy Mowatt,
Essential Logic,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.