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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 T. Rex to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
The American Breed,
The Mojo Men,
Q and Not U,
Agent Orange,
Bizarre Inc.,
DNA,
PIL,
T.S.O.L.,
Boredoms,
Little Man,
The Fall,
Reagan Youth,
FM Einheit,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Dolphy,
Eddi Front,
DJ Sneak,
Lungfish,
Sister Nancy,
Urselle,
the Normal,
Barrington Levy,
The Mummies,
The Young Rascals,
Bang On A Can,
The Wake,
The Evens,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Remains,
KRS-One,
Tomorrow,
The Gories,
The Cramps,
Spandau Ballet,
Siglo XX,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pylon,
Swell Maps,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed,
Pussy Galore,
The Cure,
The Real Kids,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ituana,
Rod Modell,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Clear Light,
Alison Limerick,
The Dirtbombs,
Infiniti,
Nick Fraelich,
Carl Craig,
Aloha Tigers,
Eden Ahbez,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.