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 Greece and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Cramps 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Slackers,
Jacques Brel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gories,
Zero Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Residents,
Chris & Cosey,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Golliwogs,
Ten City,
Deakin,
Max Romeo,
Easy Going,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
Man Parrish,
Josef K,
Second Layer,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Fraelich,
John Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
Faraquet,
Graham Central Station,
Clear Light,
Buzzcocks,
Don Cherry,
Steve Hackett,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yellowson,
the Human League,
Marine Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bad Manners,
Andrew Hill,
Silicon Teens,
Sonic Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unwound,
Juan Atkins,
The Toasters,
John Holt,
The Knickerbockers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Freddie Wadling,
Negative Approach,
Swans,
Lungfish,
Scan 7,
The Sound,
Skriet,
Pere Ubu,
New York Dolls,
Pussy Galore,
Neil Young,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.