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 Somalia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Electric Prunes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Talk Talk,
Dark Day,
Sam Rivers,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Germs,
The Standells,
The Dirtbombs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
Jawbox,
Marmalade,
The Fall,
Quando Quango,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deepchord,
Unrelated Segments,
Eve St. Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Junior Murvin,
Colin Newman,
Spoonie Gee,
Urselle,
AZ,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Slits,
Sight & Sound,
Ossler,
Sister Nancy,
Scion,
Moss Icon,
The Real Kids,
Ultravox,
The Smoke,
Ituana,
Glambeats Corp.,
Swans,
Cameo,
Crooked Eye,
Roxy Music,
U.S. Maple,
Lightning Bolt,
The Remains,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joy Division,
Skriet,
Qualms,
Kerri Chandler,
Johnny Osbourne,
48th St. Collective,
Circle Jerks,
Kurtis Blow,
Glenn Branca,
Gang of Four,
The Techniques,
The American Breed,
Scott Walker,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.