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 Armenia and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Young Rascals to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fuzztones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Aural Exciters,
Iggy Pop,
Suicide,
Carl Craig,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Clarke,
Nick Fraelich,
Underground Resistance,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bluetip,
Q and Not U,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eden Ahbez,
Erasure,
Delta 5,
Althea and Donna,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hot Snakes,
The Fortunes,
Darondo,
Whodini,
Dark Day,
Make Up,
Skriet,
Y Pants,
Bobby Sherman,
Colin Newman,
The Slits,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Happenings,
Scion,
Kaleidoscope,
Main Source,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Christie,
Gastr Del Sol,
Silicon Teens,
The Raincoats,
The Five Americans,
Stetsasonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Andrew Hill,
Rod Modell,
Gong,
The Misunderstood,
Blake Baxter,
The Gun Club,
Kerri Chandler,
Basic Channel,
Hashim,
Public Enemy,
Jerry's Kids,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
CMW,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.