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 Liechtenstein and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 Stooges to the electroclash 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Ohio Players,
Jacques Brel,
Marine Girls,
LL Cool J,
Charles Mingus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
R.M.O.,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Avey Tare,
David Bowie,
Curtis Mayfield,
Guru Guru,
Jeru the Damaja,
EPMD,
Average White Band,
Mars,
K-Klass,
The Residents,
Peter and Kerry,
China Crisis,
Fugazi,
Crooked Eye,
AZ,
Peter & Gordon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Swans,
The Gories,
Yellowson,
The Red Krayola,
Hasil Adkins,
Tears for Fears,
Ultravox,
Steve Hackett,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ituana,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joy Division,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Panda Bear,
Fela Kuti,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Excepter,
Outsiders,
Donny Hathaway,
Eddi Front,
Derrick May,
Scientists,
the Association,
Mr. Review,
Adolescents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amazonics,
Stiv Bators,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Sherman,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.