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 Kuwait and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
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 Andrew Hill to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Blossom Toes,
The Buckinghams,
Joensuu 1685,
Andrew Hill,
Hot Snakes,
Newcleus,
Reuben Wilson,
Kerri Chandler,
Joey Negro,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Morten Harket,
Sun City Girls,
AZ,
Scott Walker,
Tim Buckley,
Althea and Donna,
Warsaw,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Radiopuhelimet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Shuggie Otis,
Ohio Players,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Misunderstood,
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cowsills,
Donald Byrd,
June Days,
Bootsy Collins,
The J.B.'s,
Guru Guru,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
48th St. Collective,
Con Funk Shun,
Kurtis Blow,
Joe Finger,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rufus Thomas,
Minutemen,
Rosa Yemen,
Grauzone,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Graham Central Station,
Television Personalities,
The Stooges,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Red Krayola,
The Moleskins,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.