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 Singapore and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Mars to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Fugazi,
Brick,
John Cale,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Offenders,
Arthur Verocai,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
The Motions,
Gang of Four,
Slave,
Oneida,
The Angels of Light,
Sun Ra,
The Divine Comedy,
The Names,
E-Dancer,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Litter,
Bluetip,
Marshall Jefferson,
Michelle Simonal,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Human League,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lakeside,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
the Normal,
Al Stewart,
Mandrill,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ice-T,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terrestrial Tones,
Chrome,
Fat Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Ronnie Foster,
Infiniti,
MDC,
China Crisis,
The Fugs,
The Velvet Underground,
ABC,
Archie Shepp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alton Ellis,
Metal Thangz,
Section 25,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boz Scaggs,
Heaven 17,
Jandek,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.