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 Afghanistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Toasters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Scion,
LL Cool J,
This Heat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joyce Sims,
The Fugs,
MC5,
Arcadia,
The United States of America,
Black Pus,
The Birthday Party,
Minnie Riperton,
Harmonia,
Chrome,
Porter Ricks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric B and Rakim,
Parry Music,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Symarip,
The Young Rascals,
Piero Umiliani,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Germs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skarface,
Zapp,
Rites of Spring,
Surgeon,
Junior Murvin,
Sun Ra,
Drexciya,
48th St. Collective,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
China Crisis,
David McCallum,
Thompson Twins,
Vladislav Delay,
Duran Duran,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Barracudas,
The Gladiators,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lungfish,
Lucky Dragons,
Delta 5,
Faust,
Wally Richardson,
Intrusion,
Ornette Coleman,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Starr,
Brass Construction,
Laurel Aitken,
Public Enemy,
The Smiths,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sugar Minott,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.