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 Singapore and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the punk 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-101,
Stetsasonic,
John Cale,
Donald Byrd,
Glenn Branca,
Mad Mike,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bluetip,
The Blackbyrds,
Lyres,
Radiopuhelimet,
The American Breed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare,
The Black Dice,
Surgeon,
Animal Collective,
Arab on Radar,
Nas,
Tropical Tobacco,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Stooges,
Joy Division,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Finger,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The J.B.'s,
Symarip,
Severed Heads,
The Residents,
Barrington Levy,
Sparks,
Charles Mingus,
Drexciya,
Nils Olav,
The Litter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Newcleus,
Ludus,
CMW,
Mars,
The Cure,
The Motions,
kango's stein massive,
Essential Logic,
The Gun Club,
Soul Sonic Force,
KRS-One,
Derrick May,
Duran Duran,
Interpol,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.