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 Mexico and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Parry Music to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Mad Mike,
Gang Starr,
Bauhaus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Desert Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smiths,
Iggy Pop,
Unrelated Segments,
Tres Demented,
The Cowsills,
Reuben Wilson,
Jerry's Kids,
The United States of America,
Wolf Eyes,
This Heat,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Misunderstood,
Pussy Galore,
John Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Invisible,
Boredoms,
Electric Prunes,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Slave,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Zeros,
Vainqueur,
The Fire Engines,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fluxion,
R.M.O.,
La Düsseldorf,
Magma,
Henry Cow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Guru Guru,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Royal Trux,
Faraquet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Au Pairs,
Ken Boothe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Swell Maps,
Liliput,
Joyce Sims,
The Birthday Party,
The Blues Magoos,
Rites of Spring,
Wasted Youth,
Procol Harum,
Traffic Nightmare,
Y Pants,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultravox,
Jawbox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Das Ding,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.