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 Antigua and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the funk 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Frankie Knuckles,
These Immortal Souls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mummies,
F. McDonald,
Das Ding,
Panda Bear,
The Doors,
Little Man,
John Cale,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Victims,
Pylon,
The Smoke,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Beau Brummels,
Con Funk Shun,
In Retrospect,
New Order,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fall,
Section 25,
Accadde A,
The Zeros,
Nick Fraelich,
Delta 5,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Interpol,
The Neon Judgement,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-101,
The Trojans,
Donald Byrd,
Liliput,
The Pop Group,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Yellowson,
Gichy Dan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Underground Resistance,
Yazoo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Germs,
Q and Not U,
Sight & Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Neu!,
Charles Mingus,
Derrick Morgan,
The Sonics,
Patti Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
10cc,
Fatback Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hasil Adkins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.