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 Hungary and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Victims to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeff Lynne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Cale,
David Bowie,
The Victims,
Dark Day,
Ossler,
Hot Snakes,
X-101,
The Names,
Talk Talk,
The Black Dice,
Don Cherry,
Pantytec,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Schoolly D,
Bush Tetras,
Pylon,
Neil Young,
OOIOO,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Kerri Chandler,
The Martian,
Rufus Thomas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deadbeat,
Crime,
The Barracudas,
Jacob Miller,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yusef Lateef,
The Busters,
Rosa Yemen,
Mark Hollis,
Metal Thangz,
Loose Ends,
Joyce Sims,
Aaron Thompson,
Tom Boy,
Cecil Taylor,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Wells,
Easy Going,
Harry Pussy,
The Divine Comedy,
The New Christs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Shoche,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sound,
Nico,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.