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 Belgium and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 John Holt 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Joey Negro,
Metal Thangz,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Tremeloes,
Yellowson,
This Heat,
John Lydon,
The Electric Prunes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Depeche Mode,
The Fire Engines,
Hardrive,
Camberwell Now,
Parry Music,
Warsaw,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tom Boy,
The United States of America,
Scion,
New Order,
Bluetip,
Young Marble Giants,
Tres Demented,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Leonard Cohen,
Deakin,
Liliput,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soft Cell,
World's Most,
The Fall,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Real Kids,
Camouflage,
Ultravox,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Clear Light,
Moebius,
Brass Construction,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fugs,
Radiohead,
Alice Coltrane,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Flag,
Harpers Bizarre,
Juan Atkins,
Yazoo,
Quando Quango,
Fugazi,
Neil Young,
The Dead C,
Nils Olav,
Erykah Badu,
Thee Headcoats,
Fad Gadget,
Jandek,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.