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 Djibouti and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin 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 Gladiators to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Martian,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
Grey Daturas,
Pere Ubu,
The Buckinghams,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thee Headcoats,
Deadbeat,
The Index,
Fad Gadget,
Underground Resistance,
Piero Umiliani,
Groovy Waters,
Buzzcocks,
The Music Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lower 48,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fortunes,
Infiniti,
Au Pairs,
Banda Bassotti,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Last Poets,
R.M.O.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camouflage,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quadrant,
The Gun Club,
PIL,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Clarke,
World's Most,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cramps,
Cecil Taylor,
Davy DMX,
The Residents,
Barbara Tucker,
Mo-Dettes,
Unrelated Segments,
Quando Quango,
Minutemen,
Ultravox,
Surgeon,
Letta Mbulu,
The Star Department,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Associates,
The Monks,
Siglo XX,
The Moody Blues,
June of 44,
Ralphi Rosario,
Todd Terry,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.