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 Taiwan and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Heaven 17 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Neil Young,
Khruangbin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Masters at Work,
Kaleidoscope,
Panda Bear,
Lee Hazlewood,
New York Dolls,
Can,
Rhythm & Sound,
David Axelrod,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mission of Burma,
Magma,
The Busters,
Black Moon,
Bill Near,
The Seeds,
Lyres,
The Tremeloes,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
The Raincoats,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Blackbyrds,
Ice-T,
Absolute Body Control,
Monolake,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Lynne,
Sandy B,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
Aural Exciters,
LL Cool J,
The Durutti Column,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Godley & Creme,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Surgeon,
AZ,
L. Decosne,
the Bar-Kays,
Sparks,
Gichy Dan,
Albert Ayler,
Parry Music,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang Starr,
The Black Dice,
The Selecter,
Cecil Taylor,
Arthur Verocai,
Spoonie Gee,
Basic Channel,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.