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 Tunisia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grunge 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Stooges,
Television,
Tropical Tobacco,
Organ,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Raincoats,
The Misunderstood,
Blancmange,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scientists,
The Red Krayola,
Chrome,
Terry Callier,
Das Ding,
Dark Day,
AZ,
Nick Fraelich,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Y Pants,
Colin Newman,
Stetsasonic,
Cal Tjader,
The Detroit Cobras,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Five Americans,
The Skatalites,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doors,
Eric B and Rakim,
Vladislav Delay,
Dead Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Au Pairs,
The J.B.'s,
Quadrant,
Crispian St. Peters,
Underground Resistance,
Juan Atkins,
New Order,
Lucky Dragons,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobby Womack,
Rod Modell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nils Olav,
Roxette,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Siglo XX,
Interpol,
Gang Green,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Darondo,
The Dead C,
Hoover,
The Motions,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.