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 Rwanda and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Warsaw to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Marcia Griffiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
FM Einheit,
Wally Richardson,
E-Dancer,
Brand Nubian,
Anthony Braxton,
Intrusion,
The Slackers,
Robert Wyatt,
OOIOO,
Pulsallama,
Ice-T,
The Slits,
The Saints,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sonics,
The Modern Lovers,
Duran Duran,
The Black Dice,
10cc,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minnie Riperton,
Rosa Yemen,
Interpol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blossom Toes,
Index,
The Toasters,
Shuggie Otis,
Joe Smooth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bill Wells,
The Divine Comedy,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Byrd,
Banda Bassotti,
Heaven 17,
Gang Green,
Grauzone,
Tim Buckley,
Matthew Bourne,
Wings,
Essential Logic,
Ultimate Spinach,
D'Angelo,
Jawbox,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Pus,
New York Dolls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eli Mardock,
Eden Ahbez,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.