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 Portugal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Cameo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joe Finger,
Urselle,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funkadelic,
Lou Christie,
David Bowie,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mandrill,
Skriet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faraquet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Q65,
The Red Krayola,
The Smoke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Don Cherry,
The Index,
Prince Buster,
Panda Bear,
PIL,
Albert Ayler,
Masters at Work,
The Fugs,
Crash Course in Science,
Lucky Dragons,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Grass Roots,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tim Buckley,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barry Ungar,
Sound Behaviour,
Main Source,
Visage,
Moby Grape,
Connie Case,
the Human League,
The Human League,
Hot Snakes,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Bourne,
Y Pants,
The Gladiators,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sugar Minott,
Cheater Slicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Nico,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pierre Henry,
Faust,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scan 7,
Smog,
Wally Richardson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.