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 Chad and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Isaac Hayes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
Grauzone,
Tommy Roe,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bronski Beat,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Normal,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quantec,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skriet,
Ice-T,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Sound,
Liliput,
Juan Atkins,
Pantytec,
Royal Trux,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cure,
Glenn Branca,
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Motorama,
Half Japanese,
Johnny Clarke,
John Lydon,
Eric Copeland,
ABBA,
The Victims,
10cc,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare,
Peter & Gordon,
Jawbox,
Sight & Sound,
Blancmange,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
48th St. Collective,
Zero Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Smog,
Sällskapet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Subhumans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aloha Tigers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
China Crisis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs,
Television,
Procol Harum,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.