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 Palau and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Marine Girls,
Magma,
Pagans,
Donald Byrd,
Motorama,
Schoolly D,
John Foxx,
The American Breed,
Lee Hazlewood,
June of 44,
The Invisible,
Kas Product,
Toni Rubio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Liliput,
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Almond,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
Sixth Finger,
Roxy Music,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
Sun City Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cramps,
48th St. Collective,
The Black Dice,
Max Romeo,
Robert Wyatt,
Average White Band,
The Fall,
Supertramp,
Model 500,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tommy Roe,
The Index,
Radiopuhelimet,
Funky Four + One,
Ornette Coleman,
Alison Limerick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New Order,
JFA,
Slick Rick,
Rapeman,
Kayak,
Pere Ubu,
Accadde A,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rekid,
Grauzone,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Loose Ends,
The Residents,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.