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 El Salvador and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Ultimate Spinach to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
The Durutti Column,
Hasil Adkins,
Stereo Dub,
One Last Wish,
Y Pants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oneida,
Faust,
Freddie Wadling,
Blossom Toes,
The Zeros,
Quantec,
Malaria!,
the Human League,
Ice-T,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Young Rascals,
Eric Copeland,
Sandy B,
Gang Green,
B.T. Express,
John Holt,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Delon & Dalcan,
Basic Channel,
Dual Sessions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Arcadia,
Nas,
Audionom,
Tropical Tobacco,
Trumans Water,
Symarip,
Bill Near,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fugs,
U.S. Maple,
Tears for Fears,
The Fall,
The Seeds,
Delta 5,
Morten Harket,
Eve St. Jones,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unrelated Segments,
Agitation Free,
Amon Düül,
Leonard Cohen,
World's Most,
Absolute Body Control,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Newcleus,
The Vogues,
Schoolly D,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxy Music,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.