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 Albania and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 the Association to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Idris Muhammad,
Man Parrish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Durutti Column,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
R.M.O.,
Thee Headcoats,
The Black Dice,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tim Buckley,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Delon & Dalcan,
Young Marble Giants,
Ten City,
Main Source,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Human League,
Josef K,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
ABBA,
Gang Starr,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Green,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The United States of America,
Rufus Thomas,
Spoonie Gee,
John Foxx,
Wolf Eyes,
Quando Quango,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tres Demented,
The Martian,
The Blackbyrds,
John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
Ronan,
E-Dancer,
Pantytec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Byron Stingily,
Boz Scaggs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bad Manners,
Lakeside,
The Moleskins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dorothy Ashby,
Desert Stars,
David McCallum,
Surgeon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Minutemen,
Anthony Braxton,
Mo-Dettes,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.