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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blake Baxter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Oneida,
In Retrospect,
the Slits,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Spoonie Gee,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sound,
Panda Bear,
Easy Going,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Khruangbin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marvin Gaye,
PIL,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funkadelic,
Mantronix,
Kurtis Blow,
Alice Coltrane,
Yellowson,
June Days,
Excepter,
Wire,
The Cramps,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marmalade,
Boredoms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jandek,
Wolf Eyes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Suicide,
Visage,
The Blues Magoos,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Juan Atkins,
Y Pants,
Nation of Ulysses,
Japan,
Ronan,
Matthew Halsall,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Vogues,
The Music Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pantaleimon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Matthew Bourne,
Little Man,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pole,
Barrington Levy,
Marine Girls,
Marc Almond,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.