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 Cambodia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 MDC to the punk 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Barracudas,
Harry Pussy,
ABC,
Monolake,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Suburban Knight,
Nils Olav,
the Soft Cell,
Zapp,
Popol Vuh,
Danielle Patucci,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pet Shop Boys,
Subhumans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Niagra,
The Sound,
the Human League,
Quadrant,
The Birthday Party,
Warsaw,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Erykah Badu,
Inner City,
Black Bananas,
The Young Rascals,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Roxette,
Iggy Pop,
Scratch Acid,
Khruangbin,
David McCallum,
Ronnie Foster,
Alison Limerick,
The Wake,
Bill Wells,
Chris Corsano,
the Germs,
Agitation Free,
R.M.O.,
Barry Ungar,
EPMD,
Rakim,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fugs,
Flash Fearless,
Wally Richardson,
Robert Wyatt,
Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
Traffic Nightmare,
OOIOO,
ABBA,
Circle Jerks,
Hardrive,
Albert Ayler,
The Names,
Magazine,
Sixth Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.