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 Tajikistan and from Tehran.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro 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?
Nas,
Young Marble Giants,
Juan Atkins,
Section 25,
The Fuzztones,
Symarip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Robert Görl,
Maurizio,
Fluxion,
Duran Duran,
Intrusion,
Slick Rick,
Roxette,
Das Ding,
Visage,
Kenny Larkin,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mr. Review,
Skarface,
Adolescents,
Surgeon,
Organ,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Parrish,
Fad Gadget,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Television,
Harmonia,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sällskapet,
The Neon Judgement,
Simply Red,
Aswad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
Crooked Eye,
Judy Mowatt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wolf Eyes,
The Birthday Party,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Easy Going,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Roy Ayers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Schoolly D,
The Happenings,
The Cramps,
Johnny Clarke,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.