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 Tajikistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Girls At Our Best! to the electroclash 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pagans,
Porter Ricks,
cv313,
Banda Bassotti,
H. Thieme,
Quando Quango,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul II Soul,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
X-Ray Spex,
Scratch Acid,
Little Man,
Matthew Bourne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grey Daturas,
Althea and Donna,
The Gladiators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cecil Taylor,
the Soft Cell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maleditus Sound,
Eli Mardock,
The Selecter,
Derrick Morgan,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fugazi,
Anakelly,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
The Invisible,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Human League,
Public Enemy,
Amon Düül II,
Fela Kuti,
Connie Case,
New York Dolls,
The Motions,
The Litter,
Joy Division,
Blossom Toes,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sonics,
The Gun Club,
Supertramp,
Scrapy,
Jandek,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hot Snakes,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.