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 Mauritius and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Urselle to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
The Modern Lovers,
Moby Grape,
X-101,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Reed,
Main Source,
The Remains,
the Fania All-Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
Danielle Patucci,
Inner City,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arcadia,
Nico,
Tom Boy,
Swans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Motions,
Slick Rick,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fortunes,
The Gun Club,
Sight & Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
Basic Channel,
Agitation Free,
Pylon,
U.S. Maple,
Ossler,
Albert Ayler,
Soul Sonic Force,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cure,
Radiohead,
D'Angelo,
Jeff Mills,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
The Electric Prunes,
Pierre Henry,
Jawbox,
The Sonics,
Hoover,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hashim,
Harmonia,
Cluster,
Ponytail,
Harry Pussy,
Graham Central Station,
The Durutti Column,
The Gap Band,
The Fugs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Sheep,
Sun City Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
Q65,
Amon Düül,
Mo-Dettes,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.