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 Sweden and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Michael McDonald 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 Dead C to the grunge 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Das Ding,
The Birthday Party,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Last Poets,
Soul II Soul,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mantronix,
The United States of America,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joensuu 1685,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Warren Ellis,
R.M.O.,
Index,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dead C,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Cale,
Lou Christie,
Swell Maps,
Adolescents,
Angry Samoans,
Minor Threat,
Bush Tetras,
Rhythm & Sound,
Zero Boys,
Rapeman,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fire Engines,
Michelle Simonal,
Moby Grape,
Mad Mike,
Aural Exciters,
Smog,
The American Breed,
Ice-T,
The Happenings,
Guru Guru,
Donald Byrd,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
Robert Hood,
The Mojo Men,
the Germs,
Ronnie Foster,
Gabor Szabo,
B.T. Express,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Neon Judgement,
New Order,
Pere Ubu,
Sex Pistols,
Alice Coltrane,
Judy Mowatt,
John Lydon,
Susan Cadogan,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.