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 Maldives and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-102 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Birthday Party,
Rod Modell,
Freddie Wadling,
Scratch Acid,
L. Decosne,
Kenny Larkin,
Byron Stingily,
Toni Rubio,
Sight & Sound,
Darondo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spoonie Gee,
Althea and Donna,
Mr. Review,
A Certain Ratio,
The Count Five,
Interpol,
Adolescents,
Suburban Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rotary Connection,
Bluetip,
Vainqueur,
Charles Mingus,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
Stiv Bators,
Magma,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tom Boy,
Isaac Hayes,
Ten City,
Colin Newman,
Jacob Miller,
Ohio Players,
K-Klass,
U.S. Maple,
Wasted Youth,
Sonic Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ludus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sarah Menescal,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chrome,
The Index,
MDC,
Glenn Branca,
Von Mondo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Half Japanese,
a-ha,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ituana,
Marshall Jefferson,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.