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 Equatorial Guinea and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron 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 The Evens to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Make Up,
The Gun Club,
Soft Machine,
The Cowsills,
Newcleus,
Grauzone,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Prunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tim Buckley,
The Busters,
LL Cool J,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
James White and The Blacks,
The Offenders,
Sandy B,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Litter,
Niagra,
Glenn Branca,
Warsaw,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Real Kids,
Robert Görl,
Anakelly,
The Associates,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Man Parrish,
The Gories,
Bill Near,
The Divine Comedy,
Tres Demented,
The Golliwogs,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Rundgren,
Infiniti,
Zero Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bill Wells,
Erykah Badu,
Scan 7,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unwound,
Graham Central Station,
The Smoke,
Sister Nancy,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Selecter,
Rakim,
Erasure,
Nirvana,
The Flesh Eaters,
Surgeon,
The Happenings,
Thompson Twins,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.