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 Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Dawn Penn to the grunge 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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Rapeman,
Black Moon,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ituana,
Cybotron,
Jandek,
Make Up,
Albert Ayler,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lucky Dragons,
Hardrive,
Popol Vuh,
New Age Steppers,
Mad Mike,
UT,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stockholm Monsters,
Clear Light,
the Association,
Kerri Chandler,
This Heat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cecil Taylor,
Ludus,
Vainqueur,
Alton Ellis,
Fear,
Marc Almond,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
48th St. Collective,
The Evens,
The Alarm Clocks,
Groovy Waters,
The Tremeloes,
Pantaleimon,
The Pop Group,
The Blackbyrds,
Q and Not U,
Grey Daturas,
Angry Samoans,
PIL,
Subhumans,
Black Bananas,
Marine Girls,
The Mummies,
The Leaves,
Josef K,
Das Ding,
DJ Sneak,
James White and The Blacks,
Radiohead,
Dorothy Ashby,
Terry Callier,
Qualms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Rundgren,
The Fuzztones,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.