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 Jordan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dual Sessions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
World's Most,
Tubeway Army,
Marmalade,
Vainqueur,
Monks,
Gichy Dan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Mills,
Pere Ubu,
Dawn Penn,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aswad,
KRS-One,
Silicon Teens,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ossler,
Minutemen,
The Kinks,
The Offenders,
Kas Product,
Godley & Creme,
Derrick May,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mad Mike,
The Dead C,
Monolake,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Reagan Youth,
Black Moon,
Danielle Patucci,
Youth Brigade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scrapy,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Curtis Mayfield,
New York Dolls,
The Barracudas,
Cluster,
Main Source,
Lungfish,
The Selecter,
Radio Birdman,
Banda Bassotti,
Au Pairs,
Thompson Twins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Erykah Badu,
Suicide,
Derrick Morgan,
Spandau Ballet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Roxette,
Davy DMX,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.