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 Taiwan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
New York Dolls,
Gichy Dan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacob Miller,
Glenn Branca,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Liliput,
Funky Four + One,
The Fortunes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Gladiators,
Henry Cow,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
The Barracudas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oneida,
Sound Behaviour,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Shuggie Otis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Misunderstood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mo-Dettes,
The Neon Judgement,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gun Club,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Motorama,
Organ,
Peter & Gordon,
Dawn Penn,
Cameo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
Tubeway Army,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Association,
Massinfluence,
Bush Tetras,
The Blackbyrds,
Kayak,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Siglo XX,
Young Marble Giants,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.