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 Venezuela and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 güiro 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 Camouflage to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Slave,
James White and The Blacks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Laurel Aitken,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
the Germs,
Soulsonic Force,
The Slits,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Amon Düül II,
Simply Red,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Durutti Column,
Josef K,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Stooges,
The Evens,
Kerri Chandler,
June of 44,
Japan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ronan,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Junior Murvin,
Hashim,
The Busters,
Flash Fearless,
Sam Rivers,
Monolake,
The Grass Roots,
Hoover,
Tres Demented,
Morten Harket,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Los Fastidios,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The New Christs,
Wally Richardson,
Pantaleimon,
Wasted Youth,
K-Klass,
Cheater Slicks,
Nirvana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bill Near,
Bronski Beat,
Man Parrish,
Reagan Youth,
The Raincoats,
The Smiths,
Brick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Techniques,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang On A Can,
In Retrospect,
Donny Hathaway,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pierre Henry,
Scrapy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.