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 Chile and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 + Sunn O))) to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
Fatback Band,
10cc,
Chris Corsano,
Panda Bear,
Motorama,
KRS-One,
Pulsallama,
Symarip,
Ronan,
Lakeside,
Schoolly D,
Skaos,
Hashim,
Unrelated Segments,
The Index,
Gang Starr,
Shoche,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
World's Most,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Standells,
Mission of Burma,
The Slits,
Henry Cow,
Mad Mike,
Sight & Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Severed Heads,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chrome,
Surgeon,
The Residents,
Rapeman,
Ludus,
Archie Shepp,
The Five Americans,
Marvin Gaye,
Rites of Spring,
Adolescents,
Scion,
Trumans Water,
China Crisis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Foxx,
Godley & Creme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Swans,
EPMD,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Los Fastidios,
The Last Poets,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Stooges,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.