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 Malaysia and from London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Happenings to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Flag,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Litter,
L. Decosne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stockholm Monsters,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
Wasted Youth,
Sex Pistols,
The Gories,
Monolake,
The Gladiators,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Leaves,
The Busters,
the Association,
Fat Boys,
John Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
June of 44,
Oneida,
Blake Baxter,
Kerri Chandler,
The Techniques,
John Cale,
Minny Pops,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
Toni Rubio,
The Knickerbockers,
Wire,
Donald Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Porter Ricks,
Boogie Down Productions,
a-ha,
Tomorrow,
Main Source,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barbara Tucker,
Sight & Sound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Niagra,
La Düsseldorf,
Flipper,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bluetip,
K-Klass,
Dennis Brown,
Magma,
Henry Cow,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Surgeon,
The Wake,
Ronan,
The New Christs,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.