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 Tunisia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Man Eating Sloth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Sheep,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rakim,
Motorama,
Khruangbin,
Gabor Szabo,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angry Samoans,
Harry Pussy,
Dave Gahan,
Jeff Mills,
The Happenings,
The Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
R.M.O.,
Alphaville,
Soul II Soul,
Gang of Four,
Warren Ellis,
Barbara Tucker,
Procol Harum,
Brass Construction,
Whodini,
The Stooges,
KRS-One,
Deadbeat,
Suburban Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
The Techniques,
Inner City,
Wings,
Fat Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Lightning Bolt,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Adolescents,
The Smiths,
Dark Day,
The Misunderstood,
Little Man,
The Monks,
Porter Ricks,
The Slits,
B.T. Express,
Lalann,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ludus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deepchord,
EPMD,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barry Ungar,
the Germs,
The Move,
The Divine Comedy,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.