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 Qatar and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 Sex Pistols to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
Malaria!,
Barry Ungar,
Severed Heads,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Clear Light,
Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang of Four,
The Gories,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sun Ra,
Brick,
Stiv Bators,
Pierre Henry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Panda Bear,
E-Dancer,
Alice Coltrane,
The Busters,
Ohio Players,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eve St. Jones,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Y Pants,
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
the Soft Cell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Depeche Mode,
Piero Umiliani,
Faraquet,
Rites of Spring,
Alison Limerick,
Soul II Soul,
The Evens,
Sarah Menescal,
the Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aswad,
Dawn Penn,
Urselle,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kayak,
Gregory Isaacs,
Symarip,
Juan Atkins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Association,
The Divine Comedy,
The Moody Blues,
Boz Scaggs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.