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 Yemen and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Animal Collective to the jazz 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Minor Threat,
Bill Wells,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ludus,
Schoolly D,
Technova,
ABBA,
Guru Guru,
Maurizio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
Juan Atkins,
Donny Hathaway,
Lindisfarne,
Tears for Fears,
Radio Birdman,
Half Japanese,
Agitation Free,
Gil Scott Heron,
New Order,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Easy Going,
The Knickerbockers,
Crooked Eye,
The Selecter,
The Litter,
Motorama,
Icehouse,
The Star Department,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Residents,
Al Stewart,
Wasted Youth,
Masters at Work,
Aloha Tigers,
Japan,
Derrick May,
Cameo,
Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fluxion,
Carl Craig,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter & Gordon,
Delta 5,
Trumans Water,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Silicon Teens,
Nas,
The Trojans,
the Swans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nils Olav,
Skarface,
OOIOO,
Archie Shepp,
Lightning Bolt,
Fad Gadget,
Scientists,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.