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 Mauritius and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the rap 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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Make Up,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Coltrane,
Simply Red,
Gang Starr,
Cheater Slicks,
Desert Stars,
Magazine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Schoolly D,
Von Mondo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Organ,
In Retrospect,
The Fuzztones,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Invisible,
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rakim,
Skarface,
June Days,
Pantaleimon,
Roxy Music,
Shuggie Otis,
Suicide,
a-ha,
A Certain Ratio,
Tubeway Army,
ABBA,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slackers,
Sex Pistols,
Nils Olav,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gun Club,
Moss Icon,
The Searchers,
Roxette,
The Blues Magoos,
The Kinks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mantronix,
Minnie Riperton,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Groovy Waters,
Adolescents,
Visage,
Alton Ellis,
Cal Tjader,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Camberwell Now,
Byron Stingily,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.