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 Mexico and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Donald Fagen 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 Eddi Front to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Susan Cadogan,
L. Decosne,
Skriet,
The Durutti Column,
Sun City Girls,
Au Pairs,
Mad Mike,
John Cale,
Ultra Naté,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Magazine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
Average White Band,
Bad Manners,
The New Christs,
Pantytec,
Scion,
Excepter,
Fat Boys,
Funkadelic,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Finger,
Sight & Sound,
UT,
Reuben Wilson,
Flash Fearless,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quando Quango,
Audionom,
Pulsallama,
R.M.O.,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Womack,
Alison Limerick,
The Gladiators,
Swans,
Minnie Riperton,
Mantronix,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Man Parrish,
Derrick May,
Roxy Music,
Mr. Review,
Pharoah Sanders,
Underground Resistance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bill Wells,
the Normal,
Pantaleimon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Desert Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
Joy Division,
This Heat,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Star Department,
Masters at Work,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.