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 Saudi Arabia and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Monochrome Set to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a spring reverb and a clarinet 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 chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Machine,
Nils Olav,
Spandau Ballet,
Wally Richardson,
The Angels of Light,
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
Gong,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ice-T,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dead C,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ronan,
Dead Boys,
MDC,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hoover,
Toni Rubio,
Black Pus,
Saccharine Trust,
Stereo Dub,
MC5,
Matthew Bourne,
Josef K,
Tim Buckley,
the Sonics,
Pussy Galore,
Archie Shepp,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cowsills,
Excepter,
Sam Rivers,
The Skatalites,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Quadrant,
Boredoms,
Sandy B,
Circle Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Lungfish,
Chrome,
The Real Kids,
Suicide,
Audionom,
Faraquet,
The Techniques,
Sonic Youth,
DNA,
Brand Nubian,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The J.B.'s,
Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.