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 Guyana and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Grass Roots to the rap 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Remains,
Make Up,
Wire,
U.S. Maple,
Los Fastidios,
Ronan,
The Moody Blues,
John Cale,
Crash Course in Science,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tom Boy,
the Slits,
Wally Richardson,
The Slits,
The Wake,
Avey Tare,
Pagans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Offenders,
Sight & Sound,
Barry Ungar,
The Busters,
Ultra Naté,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pantaleimon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Boredoms,
Marc Almond,
Joe Finger,
Circle Jerks,
Cameo,
Kerri Chandler,
Lalann,
Altered Images,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Johnny Clarke,
Godley & Creme,
One Last Wish,
Ponytail,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sex Pistols,
The Happenings,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
Anthony Braxton,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
OOIOO,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Electric Prunes,
Interpol,
The Motions,
Swans,
Fluxion,
The Fuzztones,
Lucky Dragons,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.