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 Maldives and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Fat Boys 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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Ludus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
Lucky Dragons,
Liliput,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mark Hollis,
Popol Vuh,
Radio Birdman,
Porter Ricks,
Harmonia,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
CMW,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spoonie Gee,
Make Up,
Panda Bear,
The Gap Band,
Maleditus Sound,
This Heat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scratch Acid,
Amon Düül,
Icehouse,
The Divine Comedy,
Q and Not U,
Sandy B,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy Collins,
Dual Sessions,
Mantronix,
The Count Five,
Blossom Toes,
Joensuu 1685,
Tom Boy,
Con Funk Shun,
Fatback Band,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
The Names,
Adolescents,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
EPMD,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joey Negro,
Stiv Bators,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
One Last Wish,
Skriet,
Scrapy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Swans,
T. Rex,
New York Dolls,
The Monochrome Set,
Brand Nubian,
Lower 48,
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.