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 Sri Lanka and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the dance 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
cv313,
Von Mondo,
The Mojo Men,
Moebius,
Ten City,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scientists,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Magma,
Fear,
Angry Samoans,
The Five Americans,
Q65,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Subhumans,
Camouflage,
Gang of Four,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers,
The Names,
The Count Five,
Gang Starr,
Mandrill,
Amazonics,
The Zeros,
Black Bananas,
Bauhaus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Pretty Things,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Moleskins,
The Electric Prunes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scrapy,
Kenny Larkin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sam Rivers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Metal Thangz,
Albert Ayler,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aswad,
Archie Shepp,
Colin Newman,
John Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Slave,
Minor Threat,
OOIOO,
T. Rex,
Drive Like Jehu,
Shoche,
Faust,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.