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 Czech Republic and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Country Teasers to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
The Martian,
Gastr Del Sol,
PIL,
Nick Fraelich,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rosa Yemen,
X-102,
Pierre Henry,
Country Teasers,
Curtis Mayfield,
R.M.O.,
Judy Mowatt,
Idris Muhammad,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jimmy McGriff,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kerri Chandler,
Los Fastidios,
Cheater Slicks,
Clear Light,
The Cramps,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jawbox,
Roxy Music,
the Bar-Kays,
The Dead C,
Fear,
Harry Pussy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Liliput,
Pagans,
Pharoah Sanders,
U.S. Maple,
The Buckinghams,
Roy Ayers,
Tom Boy,
Bill Near,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bob Dylan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Popol Vuh,
Infiniti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cecil Taylor,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deakin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Misunderstood,
Moss Icon,
The Gories,
Eric Dolphy,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.