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 Malawi and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Wally Richardson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a marimba 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Eurythmics,
Liliput,
The Blues Magoos,
Eve St. Jones,
Ponytail,
Robert Hood,
Gastr Del Sol,
Basic Channel,
Niagra,
Swans,
Glenn Branca,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Mills,
The Motions,
The Monks,
The Modern Lovers,
The Neon Judgement,
Marmalade,
The Invisible,
The Fuzztones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Bananas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kayak,
Half Japanese,
The Slackers,
Nick Fraelich,
The Black Dice,
Connie Case,
Chrome,
The Birthday Party,
Maleditus Sound,
AZ,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sight & Sound,
Amon Düül,
Tubeway Army,
Neu!,
John Lydon,
Ohio Players,
Blake Baxter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pole,
EPMD,
Bush Tetras,
Subhumans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
R.M.O.,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alice Coltrane,
Ludus,
Josef K,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
World's Most,
Gang of Four,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.