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 Tajikistan and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Flesh Eaters to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Magazine,
Fad Gadget,
Amon Düül II,
Qualms,
Ice-T,
Unwound,
Fluxion,
Zero Boys,
Anakelly,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Moon,
These Immortal Souls,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ken Boothe,
The Dirtbombs,
Don Cherry,
Sight & Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
Drive Like Jehu,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
Deepchord,
The Pretty Things,
Pet Shop Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marcia Griffiths,
H. Thieme,
The Red Krayola,
Harmonia,
Leonard Cohen,
Kas Product,
Blake Baxter,
John Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
Nas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
New Order,
Hoover,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare,
Faust,
La Düsseldorf,
Aural Exciters,
Zapp,
The Tremeloes,
Royal Trux,
Minor Threat,
B.T. Express,
The Index,
Television,
Simply Red,
Robert Görl,
Rotary Connection,
Chris Corsano,
The Names,
Motorama,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.