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 Uganda and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 The Angels of Light to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Niagra,
The Tremeloes,
Infiniti,
Franke,
Faust,
Rod Modell,
Lebanon Hanover,
DJ Sneak,
Jacques Brel,
Warsaw,
Black Pus,
Eurythmics,
Wolf Eyes,
The Real Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
Adolescents,
Al Stewart,
The Remains,
Q and Not U,
Banda Bassotti,
the Bar-Kays,
Soul II Soul,
The Selecter,
The Skatalites,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
Crime,
Ten City,
PIL,
Goldenarms,
Marvin Gaye,
The Smoke,
The Beau Brummels,
cv313,
Second Layer,
Model 500,
the Germs,
Rufus Thomas,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ken Boothe,
The Raincoats,
The Techniques,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cheater Slicks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liliput,
Ornette Coleman,
Pierre Henry,
Rakim,
AZ,
Malaria!,
8 Eyed Spy,
Half Japanese,
Boredoms,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.