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 Yemen and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sex Pistols to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Black Sheep,
48th St. Collective,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pole,
David Bowie,
Los Fastidios,
Cybotron,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Janne Schatter,
Patti Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Essential Logic,
China Crisis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reuben Wilson,
The Red Krayola,
The Blues Magoos,
Severed Heads,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mo-Dettes,
Model 500,
Peter and Kerry,
Lightning Bolt,
Soulsonic Force,
Tears for Fears,
Tomorrow,
Adolescents,
Sarah Menescal,
Minor Threat,
The Divine Comedy,
Jerry's Kids,
Radiohead,
Television,
Loose Ends,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Accadde A,
The Mummies,
The Monochrome Set,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barry Ungar,
Mark Hollis,
Colin Newman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gabor Szabo,
Shoche,
Brick,
Mr. Review,
Ornette Coleman,
Section 25,
Minnie Riperton,
Spoonie Gee,
Joey Negro,
Minutemen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rod Modell,
Black Flag,
Kenny Larkin,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.