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 Thailand and from Houston.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 The Blackbyrds to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
The Victims,
Joyce Sims,
The Gun Club,
R.M.O.,
Aural Exciters,
The Index,
The Five Americans,
Flamin' Groovies,
The J.B.'s,
Lower 48,
Hoover,
Marc Almond,
The Fuzztones,
Cluster,
Dead Boys,
Main Source,
Prince Buster,
Spandau Ballet,
Brick,
Neu!,
James White and The Blacks,
Monolake,
The Slackers,
Wolf Eyes,
Thee Headcoats,
Clear Light,
Blancmange,
Josef K,
Porter Ricks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sixth Finger,
Boredoms,
Roxy Music,
Pylon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Negative Approach,
Dennis Brown,
the Normal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Young Marble Giants,
LL Cool J,
Rufus Thomas,
AZ,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bronski Beat,
The Blues Magoos,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Dolphy,
Aswad,
The Searchers,
Mary Jane Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Monks,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.