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 Rwanda and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oneida to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Tim Buckley,
Scott Walker,
Yellowson,
Minutemen,
the Germs,
Das Ding,
Skaos,
Ohio Players,
Man Parrish,
U.S. Maple,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marcia Griffiths,
Davy DMX,
Johnny Clarke,
Vainqueur,
Blossom Toes,
Moebius,
Faraquet,
Surgeon,
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Silicon Teens,
Pole,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Invisible,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eddi Front,
Hasil Adkins,
Mad Mike,
Junior Murvin,
Loose Ends,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
World's Most,
The Stooges,
Iggy Pop,
EPMD,
Fat Boys,
Newcleus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Franke,
Dead Boys,
Colin Newman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Piero Umiliani,
The Saints,
Roy Ayers,
E-Dancer,
Lou Christie,
Robert Görl,
Khruangbin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Trumans Water,
Rakim,
T.S.O.L.,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cheater Slicks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.