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 Portugal and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Mandrill to the rock 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Connie Case,
The Birthday Party,
Desert Stars,
Rod Modell,
Fluxion,
Crispian St. Peters,
T.S.O.L.,
The Searchers,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun Ra,
Shuggie Otis,
Tom Boy,
Man Eating Sloth,
E-Dancer,
KRS-One,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gong,
Quando Quango,
Soulsonic Force,
These Immortal Souls,
X-102,
Rites of Spring,
The Skatalites,
The Saints,
T. Rex,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
kango's stein massive,
Visage,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Das Ding,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tommy Roe,
Slick Rick,
Alton Ellis,
The Gladiators,
Trumans Water,
The Residents,
Yazoo,
Main Source,
Bluetip,
Ponytail,
X-101,
Lightning Bolt,
The Slackers,
Livin' Joy,
A Certain Ratio,
Buzzcocks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Anakelly,
Terry Callier,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Leaves,
The Stooges,
The Barracudas,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.