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 Ivory Coast and from Glasgow.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pop Group to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Chrome,
The Searchers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gladiators,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
Josef K,
Lebanon Hanover,
H. Thieme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Don Cherry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kurtis Blow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hashim,
Bill Near,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Dead Boys,
UT,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mad Mike,
Camouflage,
Warren Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric Dolphy,
Stetsasonic,
Average White Band,
Al Stewart,
Ten City,
Gregory Isaacs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Technova,
Sister Nancy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sexual Harrassment,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
T.S.O.L.,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Knickerbockers,
Blake Baxter,
Arthur Verocai,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joensuu 1685,
Skriet,
The J.B.'s,
Tropical Tobacco,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
L. Decosne,
Sixth Finger,
T. Rex,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.