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 Azerbaijan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 disco 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Oneida,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Standells,
Fatback Band,
Lou Christie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Alarm Clocks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Last Poets,
Black Pus,
The Black Dice,
The Invisible,
Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Theoretical Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masters at Work,
Drexciya,
Jesper Dahlback,
Von Mondo,
Ken Boothe,
Lyres,
Pole,
John Holt,
Popol Vuh,
Gichy Dan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Sherman,
Alton Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang Starr,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
KRS-One,
Ituana,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
Max Romeo,
Excepter,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Dawn Penn,
Cecil Taylor,
Underground Resistance,
Agent Orange,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.