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 Fiji and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 Vogues to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Camouflage,
The Modern Lovers,
Harry Pussy,
Arab on Radar,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Piero Umiliani,
Pagans,
The Count Five,
Nas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Skaos,
Ornette Coleman,
Yazoo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Yusef Lateef,
Kurtis Blow,
June of 44,
the Sonics,
Supertramp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABC,
Suicide,
Todd Terry,
Spandau Ballet,
Idris Muhammad,
Darondo,
Thee Headcoats,
Gichy Dan,
Byron Stingily,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Agitation Free,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
The Evens,
The Standells,
Roxy Music,
Deadbeat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reagan Youth,
Qualms,
The Saints,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boredoms,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Franke,
Youth Brigade,
The Human League,
Massinfluence,
Angry Samoans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Mojo Men,
These Immortal Souls,
The Associates,
Glenn Branca,
John Cale,
Ossler,
The Neon Judgement,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.