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 Bangladesh and from Delhi.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 In Retrospect to the funk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Josef K,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Bar-Kays,
D'Angelo,
Max Romeo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sister Nancy,
Archie Shepp,
Symarip,
Lindisfarne,
Cameo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scratch Acid,
Ohio Players,
Brothers Johnson,
Hardrive,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fad Gadget,
Quantec,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bill Wells,
Mantronix,
The Five Americans,
Magma,
Dawn Penn,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Blackbyrds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Michelle Simonal,
The Smiths,
Rosa Yemen,
Stetsasonic,
DJ Sneak,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Interpol,
Wolf Eyes,
Soul II Soul,
The Modern Lovers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rotary Connection,
Althea and Donna,
The Move,
the Sonics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Motions,
Brass Construction,
Dual Sessions,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Neon Judgement,
Panda Bear,
Y Pants,
The Toasters,
The Pretty Things,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Section 25,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
Black Moon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.