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 Saudi Arabia and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Mandrill 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Depeche Mode,
Delon & Dalcan,
Electric Prunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pere Ubu,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Zapp,
Scion,
Con Funk Shun,
Faust,
The Moleskins,
Adolescents,
The Fall,
Todd Terry,
Black Moon,
Audionom,
Smog,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
Albert Ayler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Unwound,
The Black Dice,
Ludus,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
X-Ray Spex,
The Real Kids,
the Bar-Kays,
The Five Americans,
CMW,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Doors,
The Dead C,
The Buckinghams,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Durutti Column,
Cluster,
The Associates,
Dead Boys,
The Techniques,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Motorama,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
AZ,
Eddi Front,
cv313,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Suicide,
Danielle Patucci,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rakim,
E-Dancer,
Panda Bear,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.