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 Bahrain and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Robert Wyatt to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Magazine,
Buzzcocks,
Whodini,
Andrew Hill,
Deadbeat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Grass Roots,
Eli Mardock,
Charles Mingus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bang On A Can,
Arcadia,
Funkadelic,
Mark Hollis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Last Poets,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-101,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dave Gahan,
Au Pairs,
Radio Birdman,
The Cowsills,
Japan,
Jawbox,
Subhumans,
Adolescents,
Tommy Roe,
Outsiders,
Y Pants,
Faust,
The Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Surgeon,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Severed Heads,
The Durutti Column,
Siglo XX,
Colin Newman,
Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
The Five Americans,
Section 25,
Accadde A,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Zapp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cheater Slicks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Moleskins,
Silicon Teens,
Dorothy Ashby,
kango's stein massive,
Kevin Saunderson,
Unrelated Segments,
Bill Near,
The New Christs,
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.