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 Liberia and from Halifax.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Lalo Schifrin to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Negative Approach,
The Slackers,
The Wake,
Drive Like Jehu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Slave,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Boredoms,
The Martian,
Wally Richardson,
Kas Product,
Hot Snakes,
Joe Finger,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nirvana,
The Cowsills,
Pere Ubu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Dolphy,
Schoolly D,
Funky Four + One,
The Fortunes,
Faust,
Brothers Johnson,
John Cale,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tomorrow,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lungfish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
Easy Going,
Mark Hollis,
Interpol,
Tommy Roe,
Anthony Braxton,
The Raincoats,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Offenders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacob Miller,
The Gories,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ice-T,
Lakeside,
Clear Light,
Patti Smith,
The Gladiators,
David Axelrod,
Quando Quango,
Sam Rivers,
X-Ray Spex,
Q and Not U,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Au Pairs,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.