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 Mexico and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marine Girls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flamin' Groovies,
K-Klass,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deadbeat,
Oneida,
The Trojans,
the Association,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deepchord,
Ludus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Reuben Wilson,
Blancmange,
Warren Ellis,
Nas,
The Beau Brummels,
Sugar Minott,
Spoonie Gee,
Soft Cell,
Black Flag,
Boredoms,
Bad Manners,
Jandek,
Alton Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
Camberwell Now,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Easy Going,
Eric Dolphy,
Symarip,
Hardrive,
The Leaves,
The Vogues,
Scientists,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Clarke,
Vladislav Delay,
Babytalk,
48th St. Collective,
Pere Ubu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick Morgan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roxy Music,
Glambeats Corp.,
Surgeon,
The Fugs,
John Cale,
Cymande,
Agent Orange,
Echospace,
Graham Central Station,
Pulsallama,
Spandau Ballet,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Laurel Aitken,
Minutemen,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.