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 Dominica and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 The Gories to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel 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?
The Walker Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Main Source,
Desert Stars,
Wire,
Cheater Slicks,
Oneida,
Swell Maps,
Soul Sonic Force,
Letta Mbulu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rod Modell,
Eric Dolphy,
Marine Girls,
Glenn Branca,
Morten Harket,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Count Five,
Minutemen,
Crooked Eye,
The Wake,
The Barracudas,
David McCallum,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tom Boy,
Heaven 17,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fall,
Junior Murvin,
The Tremeloes,
Hasil Adkins,
The Associates,
Minor Threat,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Negative Approach,
David Axelrod,
Youth Brigade,
Agitation Free,
the Bar-Kays,
The Standells,
Lungfish,
CMW,
Eve St. Jones,
Cymande,
The Cramps,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Move,
EPMD,
The New Christs,
Crispian St. Peters,
ABC,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Unwound,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.