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 Lesotho and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wally Richardson to the grime 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Stetsasonic,
Alton Ellis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Henry Cow,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deadbeat,
Crooked Eye,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cramps,
Man Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hardrive,
Kenny Larkin,
Sixth Finger,
The Gladiators,
Crime,
Robert Görl,
Robert Wyatt,
The Moleskins,
Scrapy,
Inner City,
The Red Krayola,
Depeche Mode,
The Count Five,
Mark Hollis,
Eve St. Jones,
One Last Wish,
Cecil Taylor,
Davy DMX,
Audionom,
Ralphi Rosario,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
The New Christs,
Babytalk,
Warsaw,
June Days,
The Associates,
James White and The Blacks,
Severed Heads,
Q65,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Loose Ends,
Kerri Chandler,
Yellowson,
The Move,
John Coltrane,
the Normal,
Groovy Waters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Qualms,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flipper,
Scientists,
Desert Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Peter and Kerry,
Jawbox,
Nils Olav,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.