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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Maurizio to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
cv313,
Liliput,
Boredoms,
the Slits,
The Busters,
Black Pus,
Rakim,
X-Ray Spex,
Lalo Schifrin,
Reagan Youth,
The Slackers,
The Happenings,
Gichy Dan,
Fela Kuti,
Mark Hollis,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Sneak,
the Germs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
June Days,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wasted Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Peter & Gordon,
kango's stein massive,
Idris Muhammad,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sarah Menescal,
Pere Ubu,
Marine Girls,
L. Decosne,
Robert Wyatt,
Fad Gadget,
Oneida,
Spoonie Gee,
The Divine Comedy,
Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Raincoats,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Severed Heads,
Zero Boys,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Byrd,
Scott Walker,
The Kinks,
Crooked Eye,
Cameo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arcadia,
Gang Starr,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barbara Tucker,
Pole,
Faust,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.