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 Tanzania and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Chris Corsano to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Outsiders,
Fluxion,
Black Moon,
Quadrant,
Tim Buckley,
The Smoke,
The Golliwogs,
Black Pus,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Halsall,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roxette,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Make Up,
Dark Day,
The Dave Clark Five,
Duran Duran,
Marc Almond,
The Doors,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Little Man,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Birthday Party,
Sonic Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
CMW,
Pole,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Smog,
Television Personalities,
Janne Schatter,
These Immortal Souls,
Al Stewart,
Graham Central Station,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fatback Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vainqueur,
Vladislav Delay,
The Slits,
Depeche Mode,
Soul II Soul,
The Victims,
The Electric Prunes,
New Order,
Donald Byrd,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
8 Eyed Spy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jawbox,
Niagra,
Ronnie Foster,
Pylon,
Chris & Cosey,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.