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 Congo and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Symarip to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Swell Maps,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Cluster,
Visage,
MC5,
Negative Approach,
Cal Tjader,
Dual Sessions,
Public Image Ltd.,
The United States of America,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
F. McDonald,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Sonics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minnie Riperton,
The Smiths,
One Last Wish,
In Retrospect,
John Coltrane,
Junior Murvin,
Country Teasers,
The Moody Blues,
Main Source,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Television,
Whodini,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deakin,
Gang of Four,
Monolake,
Bizarre Inc.,
Second Layer,
MDC,
Loose Ends,
Howard Jones,
U.S. Maple,
Tres Demented,
Underground Resistance,
Pagans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Q and Not U,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fat Boys,
DNA,
Marmalade,
Ohio Players,
Babytalk,
Erasure,
Flash Fearless,
Electric Prunes,
Zero Boys,
The Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.