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 Slovenia and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Animal Collective to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun Ra,
Tres Demented,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hashim,
Brick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
World's Most,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moebius,
The United States of America,
Section 25,
Glenn Branca,
Flipper,
The Kinks,
Deadbeat,
Barrington Levy,
Flash Fearless,
Letta Mbulu,
Maleditus Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
Symarip,
Prince Buster,
Maurizio,
The Martian,
Roxette,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
Bang On A Can,
Procol Harum,
Roxy Music,
Easy Going,
Jandek,
Wings,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delta 5,
Das Ding,
Warren Ellis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Residents,
Infiniti,
The Mummies,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Youth Brigade,
Organ,
Hot Snakes,
Eve St. Jones,
EPMD,
Mars,
Interpol,
Mr. Review,
Mantronix,
Saccharine Trust,
Derrick Morgan,
China Crisis,
Alton Ellis,
the Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.