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 Senegal and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba 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 Mad Mike to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tres Demented,
Kerri Chandler,
The Blackbyrds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bush Tetras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Certain Ratio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gories,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Subhumans,
Shoche,
Ken Boothe,
Freddie Wadling,
Rhythm & Sound,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oblivians,
The Searchers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
Ice-T,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lower 48,
Jeff Mills,
Zero Boys,
The Moleskins,
Donald Byrd,
Matthew Bourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Names,
Marcia Griffiths,
Schoolly D,
Boz Scaggs,
Tim Buckley,
Josef K,
The Standells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bill Near,
Japan,
Icehouse,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blancmange,
Eric Dolphy,
Main Source,
Camouflage,
Das Ding,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Music Machine,
Intrusion,
Kayak,
Alice Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chrome,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ornette Coleman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.