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 Eritrea and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Ten City to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Joey Negro,
Radio Birdman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mr. Review,
Tres Demented,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funkadelic,
Tim Buckley,
Grauzone,
Cecil Taylor,
Deakin,
a-ha,
Black Sheep,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tommy Roe,
The Knickerbockers,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Green,
La Düsseldorf,
Cybotron,
the Slits,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed,
Rotary Connection,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Byron Stingily,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Josef K,
Negative Approach,
Severed Heads,
Television,
Echospace,
Rekid,
Q and Not U,
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
Lakeside,
The Raincoats,
Reuben Wilson,
Pole,
Smog,
UT,
Harry Pussy,
Schoolly D,
Sun Ra,
The Young Rascals,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Blancmange,
The Victims,
Sonic Youth,
Franke,
Deepchord,
Easy Going,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ossler,
Wally Richardson,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.