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 Kenya and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Arab on Radar to the crunk 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Rites of Spring,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
Banda Bassotti,
The J.B.'s,
Lower 48,
Sister Nancy,
World's Most,
The Evens,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Birthday Party,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Erykah Badu,
Negative Approach,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Unrelated Segments,
The Motions,
Minnie Riperton,
Interpol,
Make Up,
Black Pus,
Bluetip,
Anthony Braxton,
David Axelrod,
Lou Christie,
The Detroit Cobras,
Reagan Youth,
Niagra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bob Dylan,
Sixth Finger,
Andrew Hill,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ice-T,
Harry Pussy,
Swell Maps,
The Star Department,
The Move,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Inner City,
Simply Red,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Sheep,
Amon Düül,
James White and The Blacks,
Agent Orange,
F. McDonald,
Steve Hackett,
Black Bananas,
Godley & Creme,
Morten Harket,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare,
The Invisible,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radiohead,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.