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 United States and from Stockholm.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Anthony Braxton to the crunk 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sex Pistols,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Standells,
Amazonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Red Krayola,
The Young Rascals,
New Order,
Crooked Eye,
Gabor Szabo,
Barry Ungar,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jacques Brel,
Warren Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül II,
The Offenders,
EPMD,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Wells,
Lindisfarne,
Khruangbin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tim Buckley,
CMW,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Techniques,
Yaz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skriet,
Kaleidoscope,
Bill Near,
China Crisis,
Juan Atkins,
Excepter,
Symarip,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hasil Adkins,
Sandy B,
Arthur Verocai,
Barrington Levy,
Kurtis Blow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Wyatt,
Letta Mbulu,
Fat Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharoah Sanders,
Leonard Cohen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Reagan Youth,
AZ,
Buzzcocks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.