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 Comoros and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Au Pairs to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Byron Stingily,
Terry Callier,
Saccharine Trust,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
The Blackbyrds,
The Stooges,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Blossom Toes,
The Neon Judgement,
John Foxx,
Unwound,
Basic Channel,
Eric Copeland,
Erykah Badu,
Pere Ubu,
The Victims,
The Barracudas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Deakin,
Charles Mingus,
These Immortal Souls,
Echospace,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dark Day,
Moby Grape,
The Invisible,
Angry Samoans,
Suicide,
B.T. Express,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Doors,
U.S. Maple,
Gabor Szabo,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
The Vogues,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Happenings,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dead C,
A Certain Ratio,
Q65,
Ronnie Foster,
Anthony Braxton,
Simply Red,
Leonard Cohen,
Wasted Youth,
Swell Maps,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
OOIOO,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pussy Galore,
Dave Gahan,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.