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 Guatemala and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Nile Rodgers 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Tim Buckley,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sparks,
Television,
Johnny Osbourne,
B.T. Express,
Ossler,
Youth Brigade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman,
Tommy Roe,
Porter Ricks,
Dave Gahan,
Chris Corsano,
Ten City,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
Tres Demented,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sarah Menescal,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oneida,
The Young Rascals,
Flamin' Groovies,
Flash Fearless,
The United States of America,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Animal Collective,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Buckinghams,
Model 500,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Interpol,
Altered Images,
Motorama,
cv313,
Lightning Bolt,
New Order,
Lou Reed,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eve St. Jones,
Don Cherry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Leonard Cohen,
Brand Nubian,
Bizarre Inc.,
World's Most,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
Bill Wells,
Sex Pistols,
Pulsallama,
Organ,
The Star Department,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blancmange,
Country Teasers,
The Moleskins,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.