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 Senegal and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stiv Bators to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Wings,
Lou Christie,
Metal Thangz,
Cybotron,
Masters at Work,
OOIOO,
EPMD,
Tres Demented,
Vladislav Delay,
John Holt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Cell,
Brothers Johnson,
The Litter,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Sherman,
Angry Samoans,
Clear Light,
Echospace,
Monks,
Bill Near,
The Fire Engines,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deepchord,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ken Boothe,
Bauhaus,
Nick Fraelich,
The Divine Comedy,
Saccharine Trust,
Parry Music,
The Music Machine,
L. Decosne,
Maleditus Sound,
B.T. Express,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Happenings,
Man Eating Sloth,
Agent Orange,
Goldenarms,
Ponytail,
Jacques Brel,
Neu!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Smog,
The Dirtbombs,
Dual Sessions,
Minny Pops,
Aural Exciters,
T.S.O.L.,
Danielle Patucci,
The Techniques,
The Misunderstood,
MDC,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.