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 Solomon Islands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 Piero Umiliani to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Talk Talk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slackers,
Dennis Brown,
Crispy Ambulance,
World's Most,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Reuben Wilson,
These Immortal Souls,
Brass Construction,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wolf Eyes,
Smog,
Anakelly,
Sun Ra,
DNA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fluxion,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cure,
Crime,
Lyres,
The Cramps,
Eli Mardock,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ice-T,
Patti Smith,
MC5,
Terry Callier,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mr. Review,
Bluetip,
Mantronix,
Rapeman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Supertramp,
Tres Demented,
Motorama,
Michelle Simonal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Absolute Body Control,
John Coltrane,
Warsaw,
the Normal,
Goldenarms,
Sonic Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Mary Jane Girls,
UT,
Bush Tetras,
the Slits,
Alison Limerick,
Amon Düül II,
Wasted Youth,
the Swans,
AZ,
The Velvet Underground,
Howard Jones,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.