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 Equatorial Guinea and from Woodstock.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 Cowsills to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Can,
Lower 48,
Cluster,
Ken Boothe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scott Walker,
Newcleus,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
Kaleidoscope,
Curtis Mayfield,
Patti Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Duran Duran,
Nico,
Idris Muhammad,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dark Day,
AZ,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Music Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Residents,
Scion,
The Beau Brummels,
The Litter,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Stooges,
Jeru the Damaja,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Monochrome Set,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Spoonie Gee,
Make Up,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Half Japanese,
The Young Rascals,
The Pretty Things,
Eric Dolphy,
Johnny Clarke,
the Slits,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra,
The Zeros,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Association,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fall,
Adolescents,
Barbara Tucker,
Essential Logic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dennis Brown,
Eric Copeland,
Unwound,
The Slits,
Nils Olav,
Main Source,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.