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 Uganda and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe 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 Iggy Pop to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
In Retrospect,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Junior Murvin,
The Evens,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
D'Angelo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Theoretical Girls,
Roxy Music,
John Holt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Martian,
Ultra Naté,
Amon Düül,
Khruangbin,
The Last Poets,
Black Pus,
the Sonics,
Swans,
Amon Düül II,
Interpol,
The Human League,
Tres Demented,
Parry Music,
Intrusion,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bluetip,
Metal Thangz,
The Mummies,
Index,
the Normal,
Quantec,
OOIOO,
Slick Rick,
B.T. Express,
Quadrant,
Crooked Eye,
The Count Five,
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lindisfarne,
The Gun Club,
The Toasters,
Roy Ayers,
Infiniti,
Public Enemy,
Tommy Roe,
the Swans,
Jerry's Kids,
Clear Light,
Ice-T,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tears for Fears,
The Kinks,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.