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 Nicaragua and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Barry Ungar,
Wire,
Brick,
Rapeman,
Mo-Dettes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crime,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Faraquet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultravox,
Minny Pops,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ice-T,
The Invisible,
Aloha Tigers,
Peter and Kerry,
The Mummies,
Accadde A,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Association,
Spoonie Gee,
Jandek,
Eric Dolphy,
Little Man,
Monks,
Black Sheep,
Ossler,
Roxy Music,
The Offenders,
Amon Düül,
Anthony Braxton,
Echospace,
Arthur Verocai,
Traffic Nightmare,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
R.M.O.,
The Seeds,
Slick Rick,
Babytalk,
OOIOO,
48th St. Collective,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
Fugazi,
Country Teasers,
Lungfish,
the Bar-Kays,
the Human League,
David Axelrod,
Rites of Spring,
Yusef Lateef,
Q and Not U,
Sonic Youth,
JFA,
Chrome,
Lakeside,
The J.B.'s,
Warren Ellis,
MDC,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Agent Orange,
Tubeway Army,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.