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 Ukraine and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the jazz 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Angels of Light,
The Velvet Underground,
Eli Mardock,
Franke,
The Five Americans,
Arab on Radar,
Terrestrial Tones,
Delta 5,
Warren Ellis,
Scott Walker,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deepchord,
Spoonie Gee,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sixth Finger,
Dawn Penn,
New Age Steppers,
Black Pus,
Cheater Slicks,
Roger Hodgson,
Magazine,
Bobby Byrd,
Siglo XX,
kango's stein massive,
Agitation Free,
The Offenders,
The Saints,
Ten City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bush Tetras,
Agent Orange,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Durutti Column,
The Mummies,
The Pretty Things,
Ice-T,
Can,
Maurizio,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Human League,
Bill Wells,
Model 500,
Masters at Work,
Minor Threat,
Brand Nubian,
Rod Modell,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Teasers,
Fad Gadget,
the Swans,
Jacob Miller,
Bang On A Can,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans,
The Skatalites,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Juan Atkins,
Joey Negro,
T. Rex,
Frankie Knuckles,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.