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 Equatorial Guinea and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Don Cherry to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Nas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cluster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stetsasonic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eve St. Jones,
H. Thieme,
Talk Talk,
the Human League,
Brand Nubian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cecil Taylor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Litter,
Negative Approach,
Make Up,
Livin' Joy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heaven 17,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy Collins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Connie Case,
Rotary Connection,
Kevin Saunderson,
Metal Thangz,
Duran Duran,
Amazonics,
Basic Channel,
The Seeds,
John Coltrane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dual Sessions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Motions,
John Cale,
ABBA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hasil Adkins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalann,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Moon,
Essential Logic,
The Associates,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sun Ra,
Sandy B,
The Mummies,
The Move,
Country Teasers,
Jeff Mills,
Vladislav Delay,
Stiv Bators,
Chris & Cosey,
Rakim,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.