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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Junior Murvin to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Trumans Water,
New Order,
Deadbeat,
Television,
The Black Dice,
Deakin,
Big Daddy Kane,
MDC,
Max Romeo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Susan Cadogan,
Iggy Pop,
Symarip,
Negative Approach,
Subhumans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pussy Galore,
Silicon Teens,
B.T. Express,
Fear,
Accadde A,
Bauhaus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sugar Minott,
Fela Kuti,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gregory Isaacs,
Duran Duran,
Cabaret Voltaire,
KRS-One,
E-Dancer,
Khruangbin,
Ultra Naté,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Idris Muhammad,
Young Marble Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Josef K,
Panda Bear,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vainqueur,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Neu!,
Connie Case,
The Last Poets,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Outsiders,
Jawbox,
Black Sheep,
Moby Grape,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
a-ha,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.