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 Croatia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the disco 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magazine,
The Fortunes,
Ludus,
Bluetip,
These Immortal Souls,
Malaria!,
The Angels of Light,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sarah Menescal,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sexual Harrassment,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aswad,
Cluster,
Deadbeat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hashim,
The Birthday Party,
Monks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The J.B.'s,
Gang of Four,
Das Ding,
Panda Bear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Busters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
Infiniti,
Pierre Henry,
F. McDonald,
Chris Corsano,
Camouflage,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brand Nubian,
Tim Buckley,
Lalo Schifrin,
Newcleus,
Lyres,
Franke,
Vainqueur,
Prince Buster,
Depeche Mode,
Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
Sparks,
Marine Girls,
Fear,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Walker Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
MC5,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fugazi,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.