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 Niger and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Sonic Youth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Max Romeo,
The Smiths,
Graham Central Station,
The Gories,
Eddi Front,
Hot Snakes,
Oblivians,
Radio Birdman,
Arcadia,
The Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pulsallama,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kayak,
Maurizio,
Delon & Dalcan,
Drexciya,
Ossler,
Subhumans,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Grass Roots,
The Golliwogs,
the Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
U.S. Maple,
The Misunderstood,
D'Angelo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barrington Levy,
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lightning Bolt,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fat Boys,
Rakim,
Scan 7,
The Busters,
Eric Dolphy,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amazonics,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Oneida,
Radiohead,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Saints,
Interpol,
The Motions,
Peter and Kerry,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül,
In Retrospect,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.