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 Singapore and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scott Walker to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roger Hodgson,
Josef K,
The Seeds,
Alice Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Sneak,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Buzzcocks,
Minor Threat,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Gang of Four,
Boz Scaggs,
Aaron Thompson,
Steve Hackett,
The Vogues,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
U.S. Maple,
Can,
Severed Heads,
Babytalk,
Stetsasonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Move,
Das Ding,
Pantaleimon,
The Pretty Things,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fear,
The Fuzztones,
Khruangbin,
48th St. Collective,
Jesper Dahlback,
London Community Gospel Choir,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Star Department,
Pulsallama,
Swell Maps,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Outsiders,
Cecil Taylor,
Crime,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Oblivians,
Tres Demented,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Divine Comedy,
Ornette Coleman,
Unrelated Segments,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed,
The Fire Engines,
Eddi Front,
Main Source,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.