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 Syria and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Donald Fagen 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Monks,
Los Fastidios,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Bar-Kays,
Index,
The Dead C,
One Last Wish,
The Blackbyrds,
Stockholm Monsters,
DNA,
Con Funk Shun,
The Standells,
Eurythmics,
Sarah Menescal,
Aswad,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
Royal Trux,
The Leaves,
Y Pants,
Bang On A Can,
Flash Fearless,
Delta 5,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deadbeat,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gories,
Flipper,
The Wake,
ABBA,
Jandek,
Technova,
The Remains,
the Swans,
Lebanon Hanover,
E-Dancer,
Amazonics,
Yellowson,
Neu!,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Excepter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lungfish,
Kurtis Blow,
Ohio Players,
Malaria!,
The Neon Judgement,
The Martian,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fuzztones,
June Days,
Ultimate Spinach,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Birthday Party,
Subhumans,
Whodini,
Sister Nancy,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.