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 Denmark and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 the Normal to the grime 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Ronnie Foster,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun City Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Amon Düül II,
FM Einheit,
Carl Craig,
Marine Girls,
CMW,
Maleditus Sound,
Scion,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Patti Smith,
Joyce Sims,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Massinfluence,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
The Kinks,
Parry Music,
Popol Vuh,
Alice Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
Roy Ayers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Animal Collective,
Lightning Bolt,
Technova,
The Slits,
Gang of Four,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dennis Brown,
the Association,
Sight & Sound,
The Smiths,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cal Tjader,
Slick Rick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minutemen,
Royal Trux,
Adolescents,
Negative Approach,
Susan Cadogan,
B.T. Express,
Johnny Osbourne,
Drexciya,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cymande,
Kas Product,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Residents,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Arcadia,
The J.B.'s,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
Aswad,
Ken Boothe,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.