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 Malta and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Spoonie Gee to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Agent Orange,
Fluxion,
Idris Muhammad,
B.T. Express,
MC5,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David McCallum,
Second Layer,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blues Magoos,
Porter Ricks,
Dawn Penn,
Model 500,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marmalade,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smoke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Bar-Kays,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shoche,
Fela Kuti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Slits,
JFA,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash,
Masters at Work,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fatback Band,
Donald Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
The Seeds,
Ornette Coleman,
Mission of Burma,
The Dead C,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moby Grape,
Flash Fearless,
Moss Icon,
Ice-T,
Franke,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra,
Ituana,
Arcadia,
Goldenarms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nils Olav,
The Blackbyrds,
Steve Hackett,
The Kinks,
Laurel Aitken,
CMW,
Zapp,
Dead Boys,
Oneida,
Amon Düül,
The Skatalites,
Minny Pops,
The Flesh Eaters,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.