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 Congo and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Drexciya to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Ituana,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultravox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
D'Angelo,
Nirvana,
Sällskapet,
Dark Day,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barbara Tucker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amon Düül,
U.S. Maple,
the Germs,
The Star Department,
Nation of Ulysses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nik Kershaw,
Eurythmics,
The Doors,
Sonic Youth,
DJ Sneak,
Barrington Levy,
Scrapy,
Rufus Thomas,
Andrew Hill,
48th St. Collective,
Black Bananas,
Suicide,
Lindisfarne,
Fugazi,
Girls At Our Best!,
EPMD,
Kerri Chandler,
The Pretty Things,
Bang On A Can,
Max Romeo,
The Move,
Crime,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nico,
Malaria!,
Jimmy McGriff,
Duran Duran,
The New Christs,
Goldenarms,
The Smiths,
Monolake,
Boredoms,
cv313,
Kaleidoscope,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fat Boys,
Hashim,
OOIOO,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
KRS-One,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.