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 Brunei and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Prince Buster to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
The Stooges,
The Moleskins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Victims,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Green,
Alice Coltrane,
Magma,
Radio Birdman,
Magazine,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Easy Going,
The Detroit Cobras,
Inner City,
Eden Ahbez,
Technova,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
Arthur Verocai,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Lynne,
Altered Images,
Ronan,
MDC,
Tommy Roe,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fugazi,
The Velvet Underground,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T. Rex,
ABBA,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sonics,
Pole,
Slick Rick,
Suburban Knight,
Aswad,
In Retrospect,
Eli Mardock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
Amon Düül,
Sun City Girls,
Simply Red,
Nick Fraelich,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Anakelly,
Iggy Pop,
Swans,
The Cramps,
The Kinks,
Rod Modell,
Neu!,
Peter & Gordon,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.