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 Seychelles and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the crunk 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shuggie Otis,
The Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
Country Teasers,
The Beau Brummels,
Soulsonic Force,
Fat Boys,
Moby Grape,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Janne Schatter,
Darondo,
Kayak,
Barrington Levy,
Shoche,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tres Demented,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Coltrane,
David McCallum,
Scientists,
Theoretical Girls,
Dead Boys,
Oneida,
The Buckinghams,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Fraelich,
Reuben Wilson,
the Germs,
Ossler,
Absolute Body Control,
Severed Heads,
Intrusion,
Tubeway Army,
Pierre Henry,
U.S. Maple,
Tim Buckley,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lalann,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wasted Youth,
Parry Music,
New Age Steppers,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
New Order,
Grauzone,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ponytail,
Delta 5,
Sarah Menescal,
Aural Exciters,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Human League,
Half Japanese,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.