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 Mozambique and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bill Wells to the dance 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill 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?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Smoke,
Fugazi,
Sparks,
Pantaleimon,
Lalann,
The Busters,
Inner City,
Andrew Hill,
Bronski Beat,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Victims,
Eve St. Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joey Negro,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Searchers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swell Maps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Susan Cadogan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Tim Buckley,
New Age Steppers,
Ronan,
Cluster,
Supertramp,
Neil Young,
Skriet,
Maleditus Sound,
Mantronix,
Todd Terry,
Howard Jones,
The Birthday Party,
KRS-One,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bill Wells,
Minutemen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Warren Ellis,
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Freddie Wadling,
FM Einheit,
Ornette Coleman,
China Crisis,
Wire,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Style,
Nico,
Suburban Knight,
Kurtis Blow,
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.