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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Deadbeat to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron 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 sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Visage,
The Remains,
X-102,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sugar Minott,
The Motions,
Joensuu 1685,
B.T. Express,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric Copeland,
The Monochrome Set,
Johnny Clarke,
U.S. Maple,
Rosa Yemen,
Gong,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eden Ahbez,
The Trojans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
Wire,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ossler,
DNA,
The Black Dice,
Kayak,
Theoretical Girls,
Sam Rivers,
JFA,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultravox,
The Standells,
The Gladiators,
LL Cool J,
the Sonics,
MDC,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
UT,
The J.B.'s,
The Happenings,
The Sound,
The Fuzztones,
The Names,
The Grass Roots,
Black Bananas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Danielle Patucci,
The Busters,
Faust,
Cecil Taylor,
Ronnie Foster,
Joe Finger,
Warsaw,
Dennis Brown,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
The Pretty Things,
Anakelly,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angry Samoans,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.