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 Dominican Republic 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ 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 The Happenings to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
KRS-One,
Stockholm Monsters,
H. Thieme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gap Band,
Icehouse,
Sex Pistols,
New Order,
June Days,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Visage,
The Busters,
Piero Umiliani,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Glenn Branca,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
Minny Pops,
The Gladiators,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cramps,
Mantronix,
Infiniti,
Adolescents,
Intrusion,
Minutemen,
Subhumans,
Mark Hollis,
U.S. Maple,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Bar-Kays,
Roger Hodgson,
Parry Music,
The Leaves,
Inner City,
Main Source,
Lindisfarne,
Metal Thangz,
The Slits,
Basic Channel,
June of 44,
Patti Smith,
Todd Terry,
John Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
Deakin,
Ken Boothe,
Erasure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.