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 Dominican Republic and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar 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 H. Thieme to the rap 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Chrome,
Wolf Eyes,
Fatback Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cecil Taylor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kayak,
Albert Ayler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boz Scaggs,
Eric Dolphy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Godley & Creme,
Bill Wells,
Surgeon,
Donald Byrd,
Mo-Dettes,
Moebius,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blossom Toes,
Jacob Miller,
Darondo,
Masters at Work,
Minor Threat,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cowsills,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flamin' Groovies,
Das Ding,
Hashim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mark Hollis,
Peter and Kerry,
Sun City Girls,
Eurythmics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Isaac Hayes,
Brothers Johnson,
Zapp,
Visage,
The Mojo Men,
Kas Product,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry's Kids,
Grey Daturas,
One Last Wish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scion,
The Stooges,
Jawbox,
T. Rex,
Pierre Henry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rekid,
Joe Finger,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.