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 Tonga and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Sarah Menescal to the rock 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dennis Brown,
Ossler,
the Swans,
Heaven 17,
Babytalk,
Zapp,
Aswad,
Interpol,
Slick Rick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tropical Tobacco,
Skaos,
Steve Hackett,
T.S.O.L.,
John Lydon,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare,
Sex Pistols,
Mr. Review,
The Flesh Eaters,
Letta Mbulu,
a-ha,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
Brass Construction,
Brand Nubian,
X-102,
Porter Ricks,
Unrelated Segments,
Kenny Larkin,
Masters at Work,
Eden Ahbez,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wolf Eyes,
Deepchord,
Vladislav Delay,
Simply Red,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sällskapet,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monolake,
PIL,
Delta 5,
Jandek,
Max Romeo,
Dark Day,
Bluetip,
Ponytail,
Bootsy Collins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Goldenarms,
One Last Wish,
Massinfluence,
Deadbeat,
Silicon Teens,
L. Decosne,
New Order,
Scrapy,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.