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 Azerbaijan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sister Nancy to the crunk 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
the Slits,
Liliput,
Lakeside,
Little Man,
Duran Duran,
Vainqueur,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
China Crisis,
Deadbeat,
Soulsonic Force,
Thee Headcoats,
Reagan Youth,
Davy DMX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
X-101,
Kurtis Blow,
Jacques Brel,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Monks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sam Rivers,
Eve St. Jones,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sound,
The Blues Magoos,
Glenn Branca,
The Toasters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Andrew Hill,
B.T. Express,
Unwound,
Marc Almond,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Music Machine,
The Names,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
L. Decosne,
Au Pairs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Parry Music,
Camouflage,
Brick,
Lalann,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Babytalk,
Japan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-102,
Soul II Soul,
Scan 7,
Tres Demented,
Arcadia,
Loose Ends,
Judy Mowatt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Pus,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.