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 Peru and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Boredoms to the crunk 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Japan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boz Scaggs,
Bronski Beat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slackers,
Suburban Knight,
Glenn Branca,
T. Rex,
Ultra Naté,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiohead,
June of 44,
The Sonics,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
New York Dolls,
These Immortal Souls,
ABBA,
Mission of Burma,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
MDC,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Beau Brummels,
Chris Corsano,
Skriet,
The Buckinghams,
X-101,
The Invisible,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nirvana,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Names,
The New Christs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sexual Harrassment,
8 Eyed Spy,
Excepter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Section 25,
John Foxx,
Warsaw,
The Count Five,
Loose Ends,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
Monolake,
Amazonics,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
Model 500,
Shoche,
Au Pairs,
Ultravox,
Hashim,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.