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 Burundi and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lungfish to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
The Vogues,
Supertramp,
Television,
Brand Nubian,
the Slits,
Franke,
Bluetip,
Pharoah Sanders,
Faraquet,
Bobby Byrd,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacob Miller,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dennis Brown,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scientists,
Radiohead,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
Eddi Front,
Gang Starr,
Yusef Lateef,
Gerry Rafferty,
Trumans Water,
Flipper,
Josef K,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Velvet Underground,
Bob Dylan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blake Baxter,
The Monks,
EPMD,
Theoretical Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tres Demented,
Subhumans,
Guru Guru,
Eden Ahbez,
CMW,
Moss Icon,
Chris Corsano,
Wings,
The Dirtbombs,
The Gories,
Junior Murvin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Freddie Wadling,
Absolute Body Control,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Index,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joe Finger,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.