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 Nepal and from New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Mr. Review to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Associates,
Half Japanese,
Monks,
Swans,
Joyce Sims,
Brick,
The Saints,
Pagans,
H. Thieme,
Roxette,
Kas Product,
T.S.O.L.,
Prince Buster,
Rod Modell,
Ken Boothe,
Masters at Work,
Funky Four + One,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yellowson,
Robert Hood,
Arcadia,
Camberwell Now,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott Heron,
Byron Stingily,
Maurizio,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gories,
The Selecter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sex Pistols,
Vladislav Delay,
Mantronix,
Stereo Dub,
Lakeside,
Drive Like Jehu,
Siglo XX,
Black Pus,
The Sonics,
Black Moon,
Intrusion,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Grey Daturas,
New York Dolls,
Scion,
Niagra,
Wire,
Quadrant,
FM Einheit,
Robert Wyatt,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q65,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Negative Approach,
Public Image Ltd.,
Neil Young,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.