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 Oman and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 K-Klass to the punk 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum 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 snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Funkadelic,
Grey Daturas,
Theoretical Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Altered Images,
Shoche,
Nirvana,
Depeche Mode,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moleskins,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Black Dice,
The Cowsills,
Second Layer,
FM Einheit,
The Moody Blues,
Blake Baxter,
Marmalade,
Lindisfarne,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
The Golliwogs,
Desert Stars,
Chris Corsano,
Black Bananas,
June of 44,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Infiniti,
the Soft Cell,
The Real Kids,
Yazoo,
Gang Green,
Brick,
Essential Logic,
Liliput,
Buzzcocks,
Joe Finger,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dawn Penn,
The Selecter,
The Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
A Certain Ratio,
The Gap Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Monochrome Set,
Junior Murvin,
The Wake,
Section 25,
Drexciya,
World's Most,
Sugar Minott,
Q65,
Bluetip,
The Durutti Column,
The Red Krayola,
OOIOO,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fire Engines,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.