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 Taiwan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro 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 The Count Five to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Selecter,
Motorama,
Public Enemy,
Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kerri Chandler,
Crime,
Panda Bear,
Cal Tjader,
Wasted Youth,
the Normal,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gladiators,
Todd Terry,
Porter Ricks,
Oblivians,
D'Angelo,
Minny Pops,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
Tommy Roe,
The Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Thompson Twins,
Quantec,
Circle Jerks,
Warren Ellis,
Index,
The Move,
Reagan Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nik Kershaw,
Anthony Braxton,
Danielle Patucci,
The Grass Roots,
Popol Vuh,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minor Threat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Basic Channel,
Funkadelic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gories,
Depeche Mode,
Bang On A Can,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Inner City,
Simply Red,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moby Grape,
Pagans,
The Raincoats,
Archie Shepp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Isaac Hayes,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantytec,
Nas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.