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 Cuba and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Traffic Nightmare to the dance 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Dual Sessions,
Black Pus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chrome,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Almond,
Faraquet,
Fat Boys,
the Swans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rakim,
Metal Thangz,
Soul II Soul,
Zero Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glambeats Corp.,
Adolescents,
Swans,
Black Bananas,
Albert Ayler,
Byron Stingily,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Divine Comedy,
Japan,
Connie Case,
Animal Collective,
Tom Boy,
Ohio Players,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Parry Music,
Camberwell Now,
Urselle,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gories,
The Knickerbockers,
K-Klass,
Soulsonic Force,
Warren Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Boz Scaggs,
Ten City,
The Cramps,
Sex Pistols,
Can,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grauzone,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ponytail,
Subhumans,
Rosa Yemen,
Kayak,
The Martian,
Yaz,
Liliput,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fad Gadget,
Pussy Galore,
Roxy Music,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.