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 Romania and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Sun City Girls 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Liliput,
The Invisible,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Accadde A,
The Grass Roots,
Toni Rubio,
Q and Not U,
Barry Ungar,
Roy Ayers,
Country Teasers,
Graham Central Station,
Bush Tetras,
Joyce Sims,
Drive Like Jehu,
Masters at Work,
Derrick Morgan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Animal Collective,
The Monochrome Set,
Donald Byrd,
Sparks,
Gang Green,
The Remains,
Hot Snakes,
Section 25,
Mission of Burma,
The Toasters,
Rosa Yemen,
Nirvana,
Au Pairs,
The Fall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amon Düül II,
Terrestrial Tones,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Beau Brummels,
The Selecter,
Todd Rundgren,
Motorama,
The Monks,
Arcadia,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eric Dolphy,
X-101,
Laurel Aitken,
The Zeros,
Joensuu 1685,
Funky Four + One,
Alice Coltrane,
Neu!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rekid,
Heaven 17,
Harry Pussy,
The Victims,
Yusef Lateef,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slackers,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.