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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Idris Muhammad to the punk 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Banda Bassotti,
Animal Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Pus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rakim,
The Offenders,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Sheep,
Yusef Lateef,
Davy DMX,
China Crisis,
Black Bananas,
Kaleidoscope,
Ronan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pole,
The Tremeloes,
Jeff Lynne,
Yazoo,
The Red Krayola,
Niagra,
Gabor Szabo,
MC5,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smoke,
Clear Light,
Ituana,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Albert Ayler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Byron Stingily,
The Mojo Men,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Cal Tjader,
Das Ding,
The Pop Group,
Rotary Connection,
Oblivians,
the Sonics,
Fluxion,
The Blackbyrds,
The Beau Brummels,
Hasil Adkins,
Outsiders,
Ken Boothe,
Sonic Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Shoche,
The Dirtbombs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bill Near,
Robert Görl,
Average White Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Human League,
Organ,
Soft Machine,
David McCallum,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.