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 Fiji and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the funk 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grauzone,
Pylon,
Trumans Water,
Connie Case,
Joe Finger,
John Lydon,
Sandy B,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jandek,
Gil Scott Heron,
Technova,
Howard Jones,
Bootsy Collins,
Dead Boys,
The Mojo Men,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Blackbyrds,
Anakelly,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Albert Ayler,
Roxette,
Bush Tetras,
Index,
The Gories,
Franke,
Liliput,
Tim Buckley,
Grey Daturas,
The Trojans,
48th St. Collective,
Shuggie Otis,
Scan 7,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Monochrome Set,
Nas,
Brick,
Bobby Byrd,
The Blues Magoos,
Depeche Mode,
Magazine,
the Human League,
FM Einheit,
Swans,
L. Decosne,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Christie,
B.T. Express,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed,
Gang Green,
Echospace,
Eddi Front,
The Divine Comedy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Massinfluence,
Barry Ungar,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.