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 El Salvador and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 June Days to the grime 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Pussy Galore,
Blake Baxter,
H. Thieme,
The Selecter,
The United States of America,
The Seeds,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cheater Slicks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Residents,
Skriet,
Lungfish,
The Smoke,
Leonard Cohen,
Reagan Youth,
Organ,
Television,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Wyatt,
Popol Vuh,
Fela Kuti,
Surgeon,
Cecil Taylor,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scientists,
Minor Threat,
Carl Craig,
Talk Talk,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fluxion,
Lebanon Hanover,
Banda Bassotti,
UT,
Donny Hathaway,
The Doobie Brothers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Desert Stars,
The Wake,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Grass Roots,
Eve St. Jones,
Gong,
Agent Orange,
Soulsonic Force,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sex Pistols,
Monolake,
Ponytail,
Fear,
Mary Jane Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Oblivians,
Nas,
Camberwell Now,
The Monks,
Japan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.