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 Czech Republic and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet 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 The Count Five to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
Ultra Naté,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mad Mike,
Wire,
Flipper,
Q65,
The Mojo Men,
Ken Boothe,
The Buckinghams,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Invisible,
Angry Samoans,
Ronnie Foster,
Delon & Dalcan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tres Demented,
Liliput,
Whodini,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Monochrome Set,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Black Dice,
Tropical Tobacco,
Connie Case,
Lou Reed,
K-Klass,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Mr. Review,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Leonard Cohen,
Al Stewart,
Ludus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Graham Central Station,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
Scientists,
Tom Boy,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smoke,
Young Marble Giants,
Fluxion,
Surgeon,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Association,
Jeru the Damaja,
Motorama,
John Holt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eli Mardock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Inner City,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soft Machine,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.