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 Colombia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ 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 mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Adolescents,
Arthur Verocai,
Sonic Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Judy Mowatt,
KRS-One,
Todd Terry,
Young Marble Giants,
Jacques Brel,
The Pop Group,
PIL,
Ten City,
Boogie Down Productions,
B.T. Express,
Pere Ubu,
Juan Atkins,
the Germs,
kango's stein massive,
DNA,
Surgeon,
The Gories,
Grey Daturas,
Nirvana,
Pantaleimon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cheater Slicks,
Au Pairs,
Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Coltrane,
The Pretty Things,
Agitation Free,
Moebius,
Janne Schatter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Birthday Party,
The Fuzztones,
Sandy B,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fatback Band,
Average White Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Newcleus,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fugs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Blake Baxter,
Ohio Players,
Terry Callier,
Television,
Dawn Penn,
New York Dolls,
The Beau Brummels,
Banda Bassotti,
Gerry Rafferty,
David McCallum,
Michelle Simonal,
Donald Byrd,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.