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 Kiribati and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
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 harpsichord 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 Loose Ends to the grunge 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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 Happenings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Machine,
John Holt,
Mission of Burma,
The Remains,
Todd Terry,
Flipper,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bootsy Collins,
Lungfish,
Ossler,
Stiv Bators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harmonia,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gladiators,
The American Breed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scott Walker,
Sällskapet,
Index,
Outsiders,
Maurizio,
Minutemen,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jerry's Kids,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Prunes,
Deakin,
Ronan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lower 48,
Anthony Braxton,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Technova,
Warren Ellis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
R.M.O.,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Kinks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Yazoo,
China Crisis,
Circle Jerks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Swans,
The Techniques,
Animal Collective,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Peter & Gordon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Archie Shepp,
Gang of Four,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.