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 Sierra Leone and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
The Stooges,
Joey Negro,
Derrick May,
Can,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Technova,
Silicon Teens,
The Skatalites,
The Saints,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Pretty Things,
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
June Days,
Joyce Sims,
Nas,
Sarah Menescal,
PIL,
Anakelly,
Second Layer,
Animal Collective,
Pulsallama,
the Sonics,
Model 500,
The Fugs,
Underground Resistance,
Pantaleimon,
Black Bananas,
Yazoo,
The Gladiators,
Skarface,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The United States of America,
The Move,
Eden Ahbez,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Danielle Patucci,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maurizio,
Sparks,
Tom Boy,
Eve St. Jones,
Ten City,
Aural Exciters,
The Happenings,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cluster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Au Pairs,
Shoche,
Erykah Badu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blossom Toes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The American Breed,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.