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 Mauritania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Supertramp to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
These Immortal Souls,
Radio Birdman,
Essential Logic,
Sonic Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Detroit Cobras,
Porter Ricks,
Sun City Girls,
Schoolly D,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Searchers,
Soft Machine,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Iggy Pop,
Organ,
DJ Sneak,
Black Sheep,
Flash Fearless,
Arab on Radar,
Eddi Front,
The Velvet Underground,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yaz,
John Foxx,
John Holt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tommy Roe,
The Modern Lovers,
The Red Krayola,
Shoche,
The Fall,
The Invisible,
Black Bananas,
Pole,
Maleditus Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pussy Galore,
Sparks,
Surgeon,
The Residents,
the Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
Liliput,
Faraquet,
Dawn Penn,
Los Fastidios,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed,
Suicide,
Scion,
Robert Görl,
Deakin,
Supertramp,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Pus,
Adolescents,
Chris Corsano,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.