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 Sierra Leone and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Supertramp to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dirtbombs,
The Last Poets,
Sex Pistols,
Nirvana,
The Remains,
Fela Kuti,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultravox,
Rekid,
Tim Buckley,
Ponytail,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultra Naté,
The Trojans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Johnny Clarke,
Nation of Ulysses,
Throbbing Gristle,
LL Cool J,
Mars,
Joensuu 1685,
Ossler,
The Slackers,
Monolake,
Dark Day,
Lower 48,
Boogie Down Productions,
Robert Wyatt,
Porter Ricks,
The Red Krayola,
Rosa Yemen,
Marvin Gaye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Sonics,
Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Q65,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crime,
Barrington Levy,
Loose Ends,
Quando Quango,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
La Düsseldorf,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smoke,
Brothers Johnson,
Alison Limerick,
Erasure,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Neu!,
Pere Ubu,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Hill,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.