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 Cambodia and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 X-101 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drexciya,
Simply Red,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tom Boy,
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scratch Acid,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pierre Henry,
JFA,
Gong,
The Techniques,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fall,
DJ Style,
CMW,
John Cale,
Hoover,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Pus,
Al Stewart,
Lyres,
Ultimate Spinach,
Man Parrish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
OOIOO,
Byron Stingily,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minnie Riperton,
Scientists,
Juan Atkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispy Ambulance,
Angry Samoans,
Icehouse,
Ronan,
Jacques Brel,
the Bar-Kays,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scion,
Sarah Menescal,
X-102,
UT,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick Morgan,
Half Japanese,
Pere Ubu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Leonard Cohen,
Archie Shepp,
David Axelrod,
Vainqueur,
Rotary Connection,
Surgeon,
The Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.