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 Nicaragua and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 ABC to the grunge 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Chris Corsano,
Deepchord,
Barclay James Harvest,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Raincoats,
Robert Wyatt,
Parry Music,
Stetsasonic,
The Durutti Column,
Arcadia,
In Retrospect,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Donny Hathaway,
Country Teasers,
Fatback Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gabor Szabo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Flag,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nick Fraelich,
Tubeway Army,
Masters at Work,
The Martian,
Metal Thangz,
Blossom Toes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sister Nancy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
David Bowie,
Cecil Taylor,
Minny Pops,
Sam Rivers,
Hashim,
One Last Wish,
Derrick May,
F. McDonald,
Albert Ayler,
Iggy Pop,
Crooked Eye,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brand Nubian,
Brick,
John Coltrane,
Skarface,
Hardrive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minutemen,
Banda Bassotti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aloha Tigers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aural Exciters,
The Kinks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.