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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Associates to the grime 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Desert Stars,
Funkadelic,
Excepter,
Q65,
Surgeon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chrome,
Joyce Sims,
B.T. Express,
Radio Birdman,
Essential Logic,
Das Ding,
Marine Girls,
Loose Ends,
The Martian,
The Slackers,
Cal Tjader,
The Beau Brummels,
Stereo Dub,
KRS-One,
Monks,
MC5,
Black Sheep,
Sam Rivers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dead C,
Dennis Brown,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blancmange,
ABBA,
Joy Division,
Babytalk,
Boredoms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fluxion,
The Techniques,
This Heat,
Smog,
The Standells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
48th St. Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yellowson,
Brand Nubian,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dark Day,
Ituana,
Technova,
Amon Düül II,
Oneida,
Main Source,
The Fire Engines,
Japan,
Organ,
Fear,
Oblivians,
Infiniti,
Heaven 17,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.