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 Suriname and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gang Gang Dance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Thompson Twins,
Sandy B,
The Smoke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Smog,
Warsaw,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Reagan Youth,
John Foxx,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Buckinghams,
The Index,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dawn Penn,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
U.S. Maple,
The Count Five,
Scan 7,
F. McDonald,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cheater Slicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Organ,
K-Klass,
Hardrive,
Quando Quango,
The Pretty Things,
Kurtis Blow,
R.M.O.,
Moss Icon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Adolescents,
Ultra Naté,
Quantec,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bill Wells,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cluster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gregory Isaacs,
Chris & Cosey,
The Blues Magoos,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare,
Harry Pussy,
kango's stein massive,
Amon Düül,
Average White Band,
Skaos,
Absolute Body Control,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.