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 Lebanon and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Joe Smooth to the grunge 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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
Barry Ungar,
The Durutti Column,
Camouflage,
The Flesh Eaters,
June Days,
Joensuu 1685,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moebius,
F. McDonald,
New Age Steppers,
Isaac Hayes,
Khruangbin,
Toni Rubio,
Sun Ra,
Arab on Radar,
Alphaville,
UT,
Bill Wells,
The Gories,
Severed Heads,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Davy DMX,
Gichy Dan,
The Saints,
Cybotron,
The Gap Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fatback Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Brand Nubian,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Index,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Associates,
David Bowie,
Rites of Spring,
The Slits,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Terry,
Crime,
Yellowson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Dual Sessions,
Chrome,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cameo,
The Birthday Party,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Golliwogs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lou Reed,
Metal Thangz,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
One Last Wish,
Janne Schatter,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.