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 Panama and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Drexciya to the punk 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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
The Wake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
Scion,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Copeland,
Brothers Johnson,
Oneida,
Suicide,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Wyatt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young,
New York Dolls,
The Associates,
Q and Not U,
The Martian,
Quantec,
Barry Ungar,
Swans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fall,
The Modern Lovers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camberwell Now,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jacques Brel,
Lucky Dragons,
Patti Smith,
John Lydon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Desert Stars,
The Victims,
Juan Atkins,
Eli Mardock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camouflage,
Wolf Eyes,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Niagra,
The Smoke,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fire Engines,
Shoche,
Fela Kuti,
Chrome,
Scott Walker,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Saints,
Leonard Cohen,
Altered Images,
Scan 7,
Ludus,
Kerri Chandler,
David Axelrod,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.