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 Ireland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 X-102 to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Scott Walker,
Charles Mingus,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quadrant,
Blancmange,
Q65,
Sex Pistols,
Marine Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Graham Central Station,
Thompson Twins,
The Victims,
Andrew Hill,
Eve St. Jones,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Tremeloes,
Mission of Burma,
Bad Manners,
Saccharine Trust,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
Inner City,
Flipper,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
T.S.O.L.,
Quando Quango,
Electric Prunes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chris & Cosey,
Avey Tare,
The Young Rascals,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonic Youth,
Massinfluence,
The Fortunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Martian,
The Move,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
48th St. Collective,
John Cale,
Pere Ubu,
OOIOO,
The Smoke,
LL Cool J,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.