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 Uzbekistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Minutemen to the funk 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Alice Coltrane,
Thee Headcoats,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Detroit Cobras,
Curtis Mayfield,
Letta Mbulu,
Massinfluence,
Junior Murvin,
Joe Finger,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mo-Dettes,
Althea and Donna,
Steve Hackett,
Vainqueur,
Stetsasonic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nico,
Khruangbin,
The Leaves,
Babytalk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Agitation Free,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultravox,
The Stooges,
Sun City Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brass Construction,
Cameo,
Barrington Levy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yellowson,
The Selecter,
Ludus,
Section 25,
Soft Machine,
Amon Düül,
Smog,
Swell Maps,
The Wake,
Rod Modell,
Wasted Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Y Pants,
The Monks,
The Fugs,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Axelrod,
The Misunderstood,
Soulsonic Force,
Surgeon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacob Miller,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Vogues,
The Knickerbockers,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Funkadelic,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.