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 Grenada and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pere Ubu to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry's Kids,
Infiniti,
Cameo,
Skaos,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sam Rivers,
CMW,
The Angels of Light,
Derrick Morgan,
Barbara Tucker,
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
Gang of Four,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Wells,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flash Fearless,
Panda Bear,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crime,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kayak,
Jacques Brel,
Unwound,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick May,
Banda Bassotti,
The American Breed,
Rotary Connection,
Crash Course in Science,
Lyres,
Young Marble Giants,
Hoover,
Technova,
The Durutti Column,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter & Gordon,
New Age Steppers,
Hashim,
Sparks,
Bootsy Collins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joensuu 1685,
The Residents,
Max Romeo,
E-Dancer,
Albert Ayler,
Eurythmics,
Theoretical Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Roy Ayers,
Bronski Beat,
The Fuzztones,
Dark Day,
New York Dolls,
Dawn Penn,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Patti Smith,
Country Teasers,
June Days,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.