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 Uzbekistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Doors to the punk 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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Bush Tetras,
A Certain Ratio,
Panda Bear,
Sunsets and Hearts,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Bar-Kays,
The Moleskins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tubeway Army,
Das Ding,
The Slits,
The Smoke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yusef Lateef,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cal Tjader,
X-101,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Green,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ituana,
Rufus Thomas,
Eden Ahbez,
The Red Krayola,
Reagan Youth,
the Association,
The Cowsills,
Bauhaus,
Half Japanese,
Young Marble Giants,
Visage,
Judy Mowatt,
The Monochrome Set,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gun Club,
Popol Vuh,
Mandrill,
Nas,
CMW,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Terry Callier,
The Raincoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Colin Newman,
Fad Gadget,
Stereo Dub,
The Dead C,
The Fall,
Monolake,
Mission of Burma,
Sarah Menescal,
Ken Boothe,
Zero Boys,
Jandek,
Sam Rivers,
Wolf Eyes,
Crash Course in Science,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.