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 Kenya and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 FM Einheit to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Modern Lovers,
Loose Ends,
Monks,
Scott Walker,
The Selecter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Electric Prunes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Von Mondo,
The Remains,
X-Ray Spex,
Nation of Ulysses,
Delta 5,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unwound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scrapy,
These Immortal Souls,
Metal Thangz,
Bauhaus,
Oneida,
DNA,
Grauzone,
The Slits,
Vainqueur,
Duran Duran,
Mad Mike,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Divine Comedy,
DJ Style,
Nick Fraelich,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Star Department,
The Smoke,
Arcadia,
Little Man,
T.S.O.L.,
Donny Hathaway,
Underground Resistance,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wally Richardson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Animal Collective,
James White and The Blacks,
Public Image Ltd.,
The United States of America,
The Five Americans,
Josef K,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
The Leaves,
The Cramps,
The Monochrome Set,
Dual Sessions,
ABC,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.