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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 Mission of Burma to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Dorothy Ashby,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gun Club,
The New Christs,
The Smoke,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Moon,
Jandek,
Kenny Larkin,
The Victims,
Fad Gadget,
Rufus Thomas,
Kaleidoscope,
Supertramp,
Audionom,
The Walker Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Masters at Work,
A Certain Ratio,
Talk Talk,
Hot Snakes,
Sugar Minott,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mr. Review,
Anthony Braxton,
Tommy Roe,
Anakelly,
The Cramps,
Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Green,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joyce Sims,
The Associates,
Mission of Burma,
Don Cherry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
10cc,
The Flesh Eaters,
This Heat,
Tubeway Army,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Human League,
E-Dancer,
The Motions,
One Last Wish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
In Retrospect,
The Music Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Index,
Bush Tetras,
Massinfluence,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.