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 New Zealand and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Inner City,
Vainqueur,
Graham Central Station,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Swans,
Ultravox,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mojo Men,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Leonard Cohen,
The Leaves,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
F. McDonald,
Girls At Our Best!,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Intrusion,
Skarface,
Drive Like Jehu,
Charles Mingus,
Deepchord,
The Martian,
Tomorrow,
James White and The Blacks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Blake Baxter,
Soul II Soul,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-101,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Görl,
Lalann,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cramps,
Tommy Roe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Con Funk Shun,
Dark Day,
The American Breed,
Pantytec,
Rosa Yemen,
Desert Stars,
Guru Guru,
Alice Coltrane,
Warsaw,
Dave Gahan,
Von Mondo,
Gabor Szabo,
the Bar-Kays,
Zapp,
Subhumans,
Nik Kershaw,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marine Girls,
Section 25,
Basic Channel,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.