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 Mexico and from New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Parry Music to the techno 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Moby Grape,
Arcadia,
The Seeds,
Bauhaus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harry Pussy,
Deadbeat,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
In Retrospect,
Niagra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terrestrial Tones,
David Axelrod,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Clarke,
The Misunderstood,
The Last Poets,
Fad Gadget,
Agent Orange,
Sight & Sound,
Public Enemy,
Stiv Bators,
Carl Craig,
Masters at Work,
Mr. Review,
Byron Stingily,
Minutemen,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Royal Trux,
DJ Sneak,
John Foxx,
Simply Red,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Altered Images,
Alice Coltrane,
Urselle,
Moebius,
La Düsseldorf,
Brick,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alphaville,
Symarip,
Section 25,
Avey Tare,
T.S.O.L.,
Roger Hodgson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pylon,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.