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 Croatia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sex Pistols to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Henry Cow,
Byron Stingily,
Gichy Dan,
Crooked Eye,
Quando Quango,
Oneida,
Jacob Miller,
Derrick Morgan,
Hoover,
Babytalk,
Black Pus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skaos,
Heaven 17,
Darondo,
Danielle Patucci,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
Marmalade,
Yaz,
Reagan Youth,
Accadde A,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Morten Harket,
The Angels of Light,
The Red Krayola,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Man Parrish,
Cluster,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
FM Einheit,
Delta 5,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cramps,
Von Mondo,
Arab on Radar,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxy Music,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agitation Free,
T. Rex,
Wolf Eyes,
China Crisis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Evens,
Scott Walker,
Graham Central Station,
Boredoms,
James White and The Blacks,
X-102,
MDC,
Rites of Spring,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.