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 Lebanon and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide 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 X-101 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Quantec,
Reagan Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Flag,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lungfish,
Funky Four + One,
Unwound,
Harmonia,
Dual Sessions,
Mad Mike,
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Theoretical Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magma,
Minor Threat,
Circle Jerks,
Ponytail,
The Names,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Outsiders,
Organ,
Index,
The Searchers,
Terrestrial Tones,
CMW,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Swell Maps,
Eve St. Jones,
Au Pairs,
Inner City,
Carl Craig,
JFA,
The J.B.'s,
Loose Ends,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Associates,
Ken Boothe,
The Neon Judgement,
Minnie Riperton,
Terry Callier,
Brass Construction,
Wally Richardson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Letta Mbulu,
L. Decosne,
the Association,
X-Ray Spex,
Ornette Coleman,
Infiniti,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.