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 Czech Republic and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
The Velvet Underground,
UT,
E-Dancer,
Camberwell Now,
Bill Near,
Gang Starr,
H. Thieme,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Swans,
Dead Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kerri Chandler,
Brass Construction,
JFA,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Model 500,
David Axelrod,
Robert Görl,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rites of Spring,
A Certain Ratio,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalann,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Techniques,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
cv313,
Jerry's Kids,
Mars,
Minutemen,
David Bowie,
Ronnie Foster,
The Toasters,
Visage,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young,
Alphaville,
Joey Negro,
Nils Olav,
Section 25,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Enemy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Byrd,
Yusef Lateef,
Royal Trux,
Ten City,
Sam Rivers,
Black Bananas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gichy Dan,
Parry Music,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Al Stewart,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.