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 Lithuania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
The Searchers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tom Boy,
Gang of Four,
Jacques Brel,
David Axelrod,
Whodini,
These Immortal Souls,
Sparks,
Sex Pistols,
Kool Moe Dee,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Associates,
Joy Division,
The Last Poets,
LL Cool J,
Pharoah Sanders,
Intrusion,
Brass Construction,
Neil Young,
Warsaw,
Section 25,
Bill Near,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Panda Bear,
Negative Approach,
The Victims,
The Seeds,
Severed Heads,
Depeche Mode,
The Barracudas,
Arcadia,
Public Enemy,
Donny Hathaway,
Byron Stingily,
Simply Red,
Aswad,
the Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
Surgeon,
Terry Callier,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Offenders,
In Retrospect,
Nas,
the Germs,
The Dead C,
Pole,
The Cure,
Pere Ubu,
DNA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Danielle Patucci,
Arab on Radar,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.