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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Al Stewart to the punk 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
The Monks,
Hardrive,
Darondo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Pulsallama,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sällskapet,
Crooked Eye,
Pantytec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gastr Del Sol,
Oblivians,
Avey Tare,
Shoche,
Hot Snakes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swell Maps,
Lyres,
Lungfish,
Babytalk,
Alison Limerick,
Gang Starr,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hoover,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kevin Saunderson,
Q and Not U,
The Music Machine,
Echospace,
The Remains,
Khruangbin,
Jerry's Kids,
Minutemen,
Radiohead,
Gabor Szabo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerri Chandler,
Siglo XX,
Negative Approach,
Eve St. Jones,
Cecil Taylor,
Deakin,
AZ,
K-Klass,
Camouflage,
Barry Ungar,
June Days,
Chris & Cosey,
The Litter,
The Fortunes,
Little Man,
Audionom,
Shuggie Otis,
New Age Steppers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Connie Case,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.