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 Samoa and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the electroclash 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fugazi,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Red Krayola,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sällskapet,
Brand Nubian,
Henry Cow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Qualms,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
New Order,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bush Tetras,
Dead Boys,
Slave,
The Techniques,
Erasure,
Aaron Thompson,
Erykah Badu,
Eric Copeland,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gun Club,
Amazonics,
Hot Snakes,
Max Romeo,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Almond,
CMW,
Gichy Dan,
Anakelly,
Neu!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
OOIOO,
Grauzone,
Das Ding,
Agitation Free,
The Vogues,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
Joey Negro,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fugs,
Heaven 17,
Malaria!,
Electric Prunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amon Düül,
Animal Collective,
Eric B and Rakim,
David McCallum,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Camberwell Now,
Hardrive,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Smooth,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.