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 Australia and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Kas Product to the rock 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television Personalities,
Severed Heads,
The Motions,
Barbara Tucker,
John Cale,
Simply Red,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fugs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Bar-Kays,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harry Pussy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultra Naté,
Saccharine Trust,
Fad Gadget,
The Fall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sonics,
Wolf Eyes,
Camberwell Now,
Tommy Roe,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Velvet Underground,
Blossom Toes,
Adolescents,
Gang of Four,
Eric Copeland,
Charles Mingus,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fuzztones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marvin Gaye,
Little Man,
Graham Central Station,
Groovy Waters,
Q and Not U,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott Heron,
K-Klass,
One Last Wish,
Susan Cadogan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Shuggie Otis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Organ,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
Cymande,
Alton Ellis,
Flipper,
Michelle Simonal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Modern Lovers,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.