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 Germany and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nirvana to the funk 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Pere Ubu,
T.S.O.L.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bauhaus,
Qualms,
Con Funk Shun,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marine Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yazoo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thee Headcoats,
FM Einheit,
New Age Steppers,
Amon Düül,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crooked Eye,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Order,
Arthur Verocai,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
Unwound,
Babytalk,
The Durutti Column,
Young Marble Giants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nas,
The Star Department,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Chrome,
The Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Brick,
Andrew Hill,
The Blackbyrds,
Newcleus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Doors,
The Blues Magoos,
Section 25,
Trumans Water,
Minny Pops,
DJ Style,
Cluster,
Skaos,
Interpol,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Smiths,
Jeff Mills,
La Düsseldorf,
Junior Murvin,
The Moleskins,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.