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 Japan and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Leonard Cohen to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Television,
Parry Music,
Marine Girls,
The Vogues,
Arthur Verocai,
Neu!,
David Bowie,
Steve Hackett,
Scan 7,
The Count Five,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Interpol,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare,
Khruangbin,
The Move,
Bobby Womack,
Rhythm & Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Zeros,
Eden Ahbez,
Pantaleimon,
L. Decosne,
The Mojo Men,
Derrick Morgan,
Cecil Taylor,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed,
Vladislav Delay,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mars,
Marmalade,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya,
Roy Ayers,
Yaz,
the Sonics,
Slave,
Animal Collective,
Sam Rivers,
Crash Course in Science,
Kaleidoscope,
The Saints,
The Slackers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Alphaville,
Cybotron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Graham Central Station,
Scrapy,
Outsiders,
Althea and Donna,
Tres Demented,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.