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 Qatar and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Arab on Radar,
Tropical Tobacco,
Depeche Mode,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Moon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cymande,
Mad Mike,
Jeff Lynne,
Little Man,
The Gladiators,
The Star Department,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Sound,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Negative Approach,
Mo-Dettes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Monks,
The Skatalites,
Rosa Yemen,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soulsonic Force,
Wings,
kango's stein massive,
Amazonics,
Tim Buckley,
Qualms,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Offenders,
A Certain Ratio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Television,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
Ornette Coleman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Rotary Connection,
Byron Stingily,
Country Teasers,
Reuben Wilson,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric Dolphy,
Severed Heads,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Associates,
Magazine,
Amon Düül II,
Pet Shop Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Drexciya,
Lalo Schifrin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.