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 Jordan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 Unwound to the rap 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Jacques Brel,
Hasil Adkins,
The Red Krayola,
Ossler,
Magazine,
Massinfluence,
Man Parrish,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
Fat Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Five Americans,
Eve St. Jones,
Khruangbin,
Blossom Toes,
Section 25,
Agent Orange,
Piero Umiliani,
Minor Threat,
Cal Tjader,
Main Source,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
The Offenders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Doors,
Drexciya,
In Retrospect,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fad Gadget,
Sun City Girls,
FM Einheit,
Tubeway Army,
Make Up,
Trumans Water,
The Electric Prunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
48th St. Collective,
Cecil Taylor,
Vainqueur,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Television Personalities,
Gichy Dan,
The Music Machine,
Surgeon,
The Mojo Men,
The Cure,
Scratch Acid,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Audionom,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Swans,
Mark Hollis,
The Pretty Things,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aswad,
The Victims,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.