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 Moldova and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tubeway Army to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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-102. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Amazonics,
Robert Görl,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Skatalites,
Yellowson,
48th St. Collective,
Dawn Penn,
Royal Trux,
B.T. Express,
The Last Poets,
Pantaleimon,
The Raincoats,
Black Flag,
The Cowsills,
Heaven 17,
The Invisible,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Inner City,
Idris Muhammad,
Average White Band,
Can,
Aural Exciters,
Michelle Simonal,
Interpol,
Sex Pistols,
Eurythmics,
Scratch Acid,
MC5,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cybotron,
Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fugs,
Saccharine Trust,
Icehouse,
Talk Talk,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Q and Not U,
Eve St. Jones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Residents,
The New Christs,
Nick Fraelich,
The Evens,
U.S. Maple,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cecil Taylor,
Sparks,
Glenn Branca,
Quadrant,
Pussy Galore,
ABC,
Nirvana,
Lyres,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
8 Eyed Spy,
Accadde A,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ice-T,
Todd Terry,
DJ Sneak,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.