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 Afghanistan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jacques Brel to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nils Olav,
Quantec,
Accadde A,
Wolf Eyes,
U.S. Maple,
Eli Mardock,
Cameo,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
The Litter,
Khruangbin,
48th St. Collective,
Erykah Badu,
Chris & Cosey,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Hood,
Skarface,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crooked Eye,
Bush Tetras,
Buzzcocks,
The Kinks,
Alison Limerick,
John Lydon,
Cheater Slicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Zapp,
Stiv Bators,
the Germs,
Pantaleimon,
Glenn Branca,
The Techniques,
Girls At Our Best!,
Todd Terry,
Sparks,
The Fire Engines,
Wings,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Neu!,
Loose Ends,
Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Danielle Patucci,
Robert Wyatt,
Deadbeat,
James White and The Blacks,
Janne Schatter,
Hot Snakes,
X-102,
Scion,
Drexciya,
World's Most,
Half Japanese,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.