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 Dominican Republic and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer 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 Rekid to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cramps,
Minutemen,
Flipper,
The Saints,
Rotary Connection,
Wings,
Surgeon,
Eddi Front,
Gastr Del Sol,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Toni Rubio,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantytec,
Dark Day,
The Velvet Underground,
Sam Rivers,
the Human League,
The Star Department,
Y Pants,
Yazoo,
Jandek,
Warsaw,
Leonard Cohen,
Royal Trux,
Au Pairs,
Skarface,
Graham Central Station,
Freddie Wadling,
X-102,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Supertramp,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gil Scott Heron,
June of 44,
Jacques Brel,
Blossom Toes,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris Corsano,
The Slits,
Pulsallama,
China Crisis,
The Beau Brummels,
Chrome,
10cc,
Delon & Dalcan,
New York Dolls,
Cluster,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boredoms,
Japan,
Audionom,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Index,
Marcia Griffiths,
The J.B.'s,
Sight & Sound,
MDC,
Q and Not U,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.