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 Tanzania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 James White and The Blacks to the grunge 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Lightning Bolt,
Marvin Gaye,
Aswad,
Steve Hackett,
Grauzone,
Jeru the Damaja,
The United States of America,
Swell Maps,
Wasted Youth,
Infiniti,
Boz Scaggs,
World's Most,
Hardrive,
Blake Baxter,
Colin Newman,
Moby Grape,
Monolake,
kango's stein massive,
Scion,
The Evens,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arab on Radar,
Blossom Toes,
Fela Kuti,
Kayak,
Flamin' Groovies,
Half Japanese,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deepchord,
The Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
JFA,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
Excepter,
Dual Sessions,
The Music Machine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Patti Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bauhaus,
Pantaleimon,
Motorama,
Sun Ra,
Marmalade,
The Flesh Eaters,
Henry Cow,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
Flipper,
Cameo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hashim,
T.S.O.L.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Beau Brummels,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.