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 Samoa and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Con Funk Shun to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Fugs,
Amon Düül,
The Victims,
Isaac Hayes,
Mr. Review,
Faust,
Ronnie Foster,
Surgeon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Radio Birdman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry's Kids,
Freddie Wadling,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deakin,
Moebius,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rapeman,
R.M.O.,
UT,
The Residents,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scion,
Mo-Dettes,
Niagra,
The Stooges,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Blake Baxter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oblivians,
Pet Shop Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Piero Umiliani,
Depeche Mode,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aloha Tigers,
Matthew Bourne,
Hot Snakes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Theoretical Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Warren Ellis,
Nik Kershaw,
Swell Maps,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Parrish,
Drexciya,
Davy DMX,
Urselle,
The Black Dice,
48th St. Collective,
the Slits,
The Zeros,
Lou Reed,
Swans,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cramps,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crooked Eye,
The Associates,
Agitation Free,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.