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 San Marino and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Essential Logic to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Qualms,
Main Source,
Interpol,
Aural Exciters,
Index,
The Tremeloes,
Ornette Coleman,
Pantaleimon,
Cluster,
The Grass Roots,
The Doors,
Blake Baxter,
Graham Central Station,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lalo Schifrin,
Grauzone,
Ludus,
Minor Threat,
Con Funk Shun,
Youth Brigade,
Roxette,
Los Fastidios,
Letta Mbulu,
the Bar-Kays,
Gabor Szabo,
The Kinks,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Oblivians,
Harmonia,
Laurel Aitken,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Sound Behaviour,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sarah Menescal,
Alice Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Little Man,
Desert Stars,
Jandek,
U.S. Maple,
Blossom Toes,
Derrick May,
Motorama,
the Sonics,
Groovy Waters,
Black Moon,
JFA,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rapeman,
Essential Logic,
Icehouse,
The Leaves,
UT,
Nation of Ulysses,
Technova,
The Count Five,
Skriet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.