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 Bhutan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Prince Buster to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Gang of Four,
Davy DMX,
The Remains,
Marine Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Toni Rubio,
Thee Headcoats,
Mr. Review,
Quantec,
Byron Stingily,
Theoretical Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Kayak,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
The Young Rascals,
Severed Heads,
Franke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Television Personalities,
Can,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
Niagra,
The American Breed,
Marmalade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Red Krayola,
Bronski Beat,
Youth Brigade,
Rotary Connection,
L. Decosne,
Robert Hood,
Ken Boothe,
the Swans,
Avey Tare,
Subhumans,
Livin' Joy,
The Misunderstood,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tubeway Army,
Das Ding,
Delta 5,
Soft Machine,
The Stooges,
Electric Prunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donald Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ludus,
The Real Kids,
Sandy B,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.