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 Papua New Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Interpol to the grunge 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
EPMD,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Misunderstood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Von Mondo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fad Gadget,
Mars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maurizio,
Joe Smooth,
Rekid,
Angry Samoans,
the Germs,
Crooked Eye,
Glenn Branca,
Make Up,
The Buckinghams,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jawbox,
Albert Ayler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Stereo Dub,
Yaz,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Wyatt,
Minny Pops,
Gichy Dan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oblivians,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Minutemen,
Marc Almond,
The Moody Blues,
Brass Construction,
Eric Copeland,
John Holt,
Moby Grape,
Wings,
MDC,
Wolf Eyes,
The Offenders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Modern Lovers,
Adolescents,
Aswad,
Goldenarms,
Brand Nubian,
KRS-One,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Human League,
Bauhaus,
Chris Corsano,
Loose Ends,
Soul II Soul,
Simply Red,
Pulsallama,
Kool Moe Dee,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.