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 South Sudan and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deakin to the grunge 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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
The Modern Lovers,
JFA,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Womack,
The Dirtbombs,
Scion,
The Gladiators,
Lou Christie,
KRS-One,
The Buckinghams,
Tres Demented,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New York Dolls,
Henry Cow,
Ituana,
The Leaves,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Joe Smooth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Loose Ends,
Robert Wyatt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Amon Düül II,
Altered Images,
Darondo,
Soft Cell,
Reuben Wilson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Associates,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arab on Radar,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cal Tjader,
The Cowsills,
Saccharine Trust,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wally Richardson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
ABC,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pylon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cameo,
Leonard Cohen,
Lightning Bolt,
Funkadelic,
Procol Harum,
Make Up,
Althea and Donna,
Aaron Thompson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deakin,
The Index,
Steve Hackett,
Nirvana,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.