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 Zimbabwe and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Procol Harum to the rock 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Unrelated Segments,
Rapeman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The New Christs,
The Misunderstood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
ABBA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Dolphy,
The Electric Prunes,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
World's Most,
the Germs,
Bob Dylan,
The Modern Lovers,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cybotron,
Cluster,
Mo-Dettes,
Pulsallama,
EPMD,
Mad Mike,
Suicide,
Jandek,
Massinfluence,
Gang Starr,
The Birthday Party,
Schoolly D,
The Happenings,
The Cowsills,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Delon & Dalcan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Saccharine Trust,
T. Rex,
The Music Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
Swell Maps,
Gang of Four,
Stiv Bators,
CMW,
Terrestrial Tones,
Infiniti,
Black Flag,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
The Motions,
Scan 7,
Kayak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Slave,
Maleditus Sound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Swans,
Make Up,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.