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 Korea South and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Camberwell Now to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Gichy Dan,
Ten City,
Monks,
Howard Jones,
Goldenarms,
Quadrant,
Spandau Ballet,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Byrd,
Aaron Thompson,
The Monks,
John Coltrane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Misunderstood,
Eddi Front,
Yellowson,
The Trojans,
Connie Case,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Slits,
cv313,
Sparks,
The Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Hasil Adkins,
Nirvana,
KRS-One,
Trumans Water,
Chris Corsano,
Patti Smith,
Cluster,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donny Hathaway,
Bluetip,
Suicide,
Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
Davy DMX,
The Searchers,
Sonic Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cal Tjader,
Darondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Don Cherry,
Brand Nubian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Doobie Brothers,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Wake,
Blossom Toes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Smog,
Soulsonic Force,
Minutemen,
ABBA,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.