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 Mozambique and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Hasil Adkins 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
The Walker Brothers,
Arthur Verocai,
Sight & Sound,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Busters,
The Buckinghams,
The Star Department,
Wings,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minutemen,
Lindisfarne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Starr,
Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Todd Rundgren,
Stetsasonic,
Ossler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pere Ubu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
In Retrospect,
The Birthday Party,
John Foxx,
David McCallum,
John Lydon,
UT,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tomorrow,
Bauhaus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Clear Light,
Robert Wyatt,
Delta 5,
Dark Day,
Camberwell Now,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brick,
Minny Pops,
Archie Shepp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Spandau Ballet,
Motorama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arab on Radar,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Q65,
John Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
the Slits,
Alton Ellis,
Isaac Hayes,
Khruangbin,
Niagra,
Deakin,
Kurtis Blow,
The Move,
Trumans Water,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.