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 Cape Verde and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Drive Like Jehu to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Music Machine,
Von Mondo,
Barry Ungar,
Mantronix,
Joe Smooth,
Davy DMX,
Marc Almond,
The Doors,
Scion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Skatalites,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pantytec,
Panda Bear,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Interpol,
Erasure,
Deakin,
The New Christs,
The Offenders,
Danielle Patucci,
The Stooges,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Guru Guru,
Andrew Hill,
Minutemen,
Eric Dolphy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Misunderstood,
Symarip,
K-Klass,
Kerri Chandler,
Crash Course in Science,
Erykah Badu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Deepchord,
Barrington Levy,
Camberwell Now,
June of 44,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jacques Brel,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
Reagan Youth,
Albert Ayler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
CMW,
Alice Coltrane,
Lower 48,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Connie Case,
Tom Boy,
Joensuu 1685,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.