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 Brazil and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 B.T. Express to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Maurizio,
John Holt,
Intrusion,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Fraelich,
T.S.O.L.,
Aswad,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sam Rivers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Toni Rubio,
Jandek,
Suicide,
The Martian,
Outsiders,
La Düsseldorf,
The Black Dice,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gladiators,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Icehouse,
Technova,
Kool Moe Dee,
Make Up,
Connie Case,
Interpol,
Eurythmics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kenny Larkin,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter & Gordon,
Slave,
R.M.O.,
Q and Not U,
Rakim,
The Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
The Leaves,
Zapp,
Yellowson,
The Smiths,
Brass Construction,
Glenn Branca,
The Barracudas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rekid,
Harry Pussy,
Fugazi,
Black Moon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Can,
the Human League,
Mars,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.