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 Latvia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Josef K 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-101,
Bauhaus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Das Ding,
Suicide,
Warren Ellis,
Theoretical Girls,
Interpol,
Roxy Music,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Morten Harket,
Maleditus Sound,
Heaven 17,
The Remains,
Clear Light,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lower 48,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
Deadbeat,
Q65,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Swans,
Bill Wells,
Camouflage,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pole,
MC5,
Blossom Toes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gories,
Mark Hollis,
Mandrill,
Dennis Brown,
Tim Buckley,
Surgeon,
Fat Boys,
Kas Product,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bob Dylan,
Pagans,
Sugar Minott,
Aswad,
K-Klass,
Unwound,
Bush Tetras,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ten City,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sarah Menescal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Leonard Cohen,
Oblivians,
Skaos,
Sonny Sharrock,
KRS-One,
Moby Grape,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wasted Youth,
The Music Machine,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.