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 Mozambique and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
The Associates,
Agent Orange,
Sun City Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Rekid,
Nas,
Interpol,
Neil Young,
Sandy B,
Angry Samoans,
Vainqueur,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New Age Steppers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Neon Judgement,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aloha Tigers,
Marine Girls,
Brick,
Marvin Gaye,
Idris Muhammad,
Chris & Cosey,
Barbara Tucker,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harry Pussy,
In Retrospect,
Lyres,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Kinks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
The Cowsills,
This Heat,
the Bar-Kays,
UT,
Inner City,
The Sound,
The Red Krayola,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vladislav Delay,
The Velvet Underground,
Oneida,
Al Stewart,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Soft Cell,
La Düsseldorf,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.