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 Mali and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 D'Angelo to the electroclash 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Wasted Youth,
The Mummies,
Electric Prunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Carl Craig,
Ponytail,
Man Parrish,
Tears for Fears,
Traffic Nightmare,
Easy Going,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fugs,
The Victims,
The Leaves,
Wolf Eyes,
Mars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
PIL,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Motions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Green,
Gang Starr,
Blossom Toes,
Bluetip,
Lungfish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Popol Vuh,
The Skatalites,
The Modern Lovers,
Masters at Work,
Soulsonic Force,
Bill Near,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gap Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Bootsy Collins,
Derrick May,
Archie Shepp,
Ice-T,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Five Americans,
Drexciya,
Metal Thangz,
The Busters,
The Move,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marine Girls,
ABC,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Monks,
Massinfluence,
Sonic Youth,
The Residents,
Nick Fraelich,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantaleimon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.