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 Madagascar and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord 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 Aural Exciters to the punk 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Skarface,
Siglo XX,
Stereo Dub,
The Mighty Diamonds,
MDC,
Jerry's Kids,
The Index,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Loose Ends,
Minutemen,
Mandrill,
Pantaleimon,
Magazine,
Hoover,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Moon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bad Manners,
Lightning Bolt,
Janne Schatter,
Connie Case,
FM Einheit,
Circle Jerks,
Second Layer,
Tubeway Army,
Nirvana,
Visage,
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Can,
David Bowie,
Mars,
Moss Icon,
Kurtis Blow,
The Toasters,
Babytalk,
The Last Poets,
Joe Finger,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Mills,
Eve St. Jones,
Bluetip,
June Days,
The Cramps,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Byrd,
Amon Düül,
The Red Krayola,
Steve Hackett,
The Music Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
The Seeds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nils Olav,
Josef K,
Crispian St. Peters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Residents,
Eric Copeland,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.