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 Angola and from Sao Paulo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Busters to the techno 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Model 500,
The Wake,
Harmonia,
Davy DMX,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül II,
The Sonics,
Depeche Mode,
Mantronix,
Warren Ellis,
Index,
Tubeway Army,
Scratch Acid,
Young Marble Giants,
These Immortal Souls,
Nico,
Dave Gahan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lower 48,
Shuggie Otis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeru the Damaja,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül,
X-Ray Spex,
Das Ding,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Liliput,
Sparks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker,
Siglo XX,
Swell Maps,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Starr,
Yusef Lateef,
Unrelated Segments,
Nik Kershaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Japan,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Görl,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Barracudas,
Aaron Thompson,
Sällskapet,
the Bar-Kays,
The Monks,
Peter & Gordon,
Isaac Hayes,
Supertramp,
Albert Ayler,
Camberwell Now,
PIL,
Moby Grape,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.