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 Cyprus and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the rap 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Mr. Review,
Au Pairs,
Junior Murvin,
Terry Callier,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Byrd,
JFA,
Echospace,
Deadbeat,
Archie Shepp,
Agitation Free,
CMW,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Neu!,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter & Gordon,
David McCallum,
The Litter,
Hasil Adkins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
The Happenings,
Easy Going,
The Misunderstood,
La Düsseldorf,
Sister Nancy,
Moebius,
Los Fastidios,
Malaria!,
Sex Pistols,
Nirvana,
Pere Ubu,
Quadrant,
Joe Finger,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joy Division,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crash Course in Science,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-101,
Jacques Brel,
T. Rex,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scan 7,
Joyce Sims,
The New Christs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lungfish,
Erasure,
Sarah Menescal,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Whodini,
Fugazi,
Magazine,
The Motions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.