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 Botswana and from New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rufus Thomas to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
The Beau Brummels,
Organ,
Marc Almond,
Make Up,
Pussy Galore,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lungfish,
Bauhaus,
The Durutti Column,
John Holt,
Juan Atkins,
Swell Maps,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Funkadelic,
Joe Finger,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brothers Johnson,
Zero Boys,
Lyres,
Roxette,
Spandau Ballet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Kinks,
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
The Slackers,
The Divine Comedy,
Idris Muhammad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arcadia,
MC5,
Harmonia,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Hood,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Bananas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Malaria!,
Fluxion,
Piero Umiliani,
Deepchord,
Vladislav Delay,
Pylon,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
the Association,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
Pierre Henry,
A Certain Ratio,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thee Headcoats,
The Dirtbombs,
FM Einheit,
PIL,
Ponytail,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.