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 Libya and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sonic Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Black Flag,
Albert Ayler,
Funky Four + One,
Fugazi,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Visage,
Roxette,
Skriet,
The Selecter,
The Skatalites,
Cal Tjader,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Bananas,
Tears for Fears,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Walker Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
Interpol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
kango's stein massive,
Black Sheep,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pulsallama,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Evens,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gregory Isaacs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Index,
DJ Style,
the Association,
Sarah Menescal,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ice-T,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Radiopuhelimet,
Urselle,
Tommy Roe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jandek,
Colin Newman,
Reuben Wilson,
Wally Richardson,
The Fire Engines,
Bad Manners,
Roxy Music,
Mark Hollis,
Swell Maps,
Bill Wells,
The Invisible,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.