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 Pakistan and from Columbus.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Ohio Players to the dance 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Susan Cadogan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joyce Sims,
The Stooges,
Crispy Ambulance,
Warren Ellis,
the Bar-Kays,
Lyres,
Brothers Johnson,
Max Romeo,
The Busters,
Hot Snakes,
John Cale,
Roger Hodgson,
The Smoke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-101,
The Raincoats,
Tropical Tobacco,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Y Pants,
Trumans Water,
Janne Schatter,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
KRS-One,
Shuggie Otis,
Ultravox,
The Techniques,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
The Angels of Light,
Slave,
Nik Kershaw,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mars,
The Music Machine,
The Grass Roots,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cowsills,
Al Stewart,
Smog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Country Teasers,
Robert Wyatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Count Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Popol Vuh,
Leonard Cohen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
China Crisis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Urselle,
Chrome,
Skriet,
The Saints,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.