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 Venezuela and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scott Walker to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX 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?
The Pop Group,
Barry Ungar,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scratch Acid,
Intrusion,
T.S.O.L.,
Anakelly,
Mr. Review,
the Swans,
Minor Threat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lindisfarne,
The Angels of Light,
The Real Kids,
Sixth Finger,
The Victims,
Surgeon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Adolescents,
John Coltrane,
Parry Music,
Schoolly D,
Crispian St. Peters,
Con Funk Shun,
Agent Orange,
Donny Hathaway,
L. Decosne,
Saccharine Trust,
Lucky Dragons,
B.T. Express,
June of 44,
Wally Richardson,
Essential Logic,
Warren Ellis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Durutti Column,
CMW,
Tim Buckley,
Rosa Yemen,
Trumans Water,
Sight & Sound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kayak,
X-102,
The Alarm Clocks,
Connie Case,
The Raincoats,
The Move,
Radiohead,
The Cramps,
Crispy Ambulance,
Qualms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Style,
The American Breed,
The Doobie Brothers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
Amon Düül II,
Joy Division,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.