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 Poland and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Circle Jerks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Amon Düül II,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Model 500,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eurythmics,
Wolf Eyes,
The Happenings,
Kerri Chandler,
The Count Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
Skarface,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Graham Central Station,
Ohio Players,
Throbbing Gristle,
June of 44,
Procol Harum,
Lungfish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boogie Down Productions,
Panda Bear,
T.S.O.L.,
The Cramps,
Liliput,
Mad Mike,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blackbyrds,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
Byron Stingily,
The Index,
June Days,
The Velvet Underground,
Duran Duran,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Knickerbockers,
Q and Not U,
The Move,
Fugazi,
Spandau Ballet,
The United States of America,
Faust,
Amazonics,
The Fortunes,
Roger Hodgson,
James White and The Blacks,
Scrapy,
the Soft Cell,
The Real Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
Wire,
Hoover,
The Skatalites,
Symarip,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeff Mills,
Rapeman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.