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 Mauritius and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar 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 Young Marble Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Reagan Youth,
Max Romeo,
Scrapy,
Shoche,
The Wake,
Colin Newman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ituana,
The Divine Comedy,
H. Thieme,
Eve St. Jones,
Babytalk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Monks,
Cheater Slicks,
Maurizio,
Boredoms,
The Doors,
Dead Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
Jandek,
Procol Harum,
Tropical Tobacco,
Steve Hackett,
Ultimate Spinach,
B.T. Express,
John Cale,
Gil Scott Heron,
Index,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
David McCallum,
The Smoke,
The Searchers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Qualms,
Al Stewart,
the Association,
Infiniti,
Ultra Naté,
The Blackbyrds,
Drexciya,
JFA,
Fluxion,
Blake Baxter,
Black Pus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Zeros,
Radiopuhelimet,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Index,
Kenny Larkin,
Public Enemy,
Franke,
Fad Gadget,
Crooked Eye,
Dual Sessions,
Depeche Mode,
Mark Hollis,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.