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 Kosovo and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Knickerbockers to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Patti Smith,
Bill Wells,
Anakelly,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Mary Jane Girls,
Panda Bear,
H. Thieme,
F. McDonald,
These Immortal Souls,
Ronnie Foster,
In Retrospect,
Jawbox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alton Ellis,
AZ,
Byron Stingily,
Supertramp,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Red Krayola,
Lungfish,
Nas,
T. Rex,
Liliput,
Fat Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Neil Young,
Swans,
Mr. Review,
Wally Richardson,
Ice-T,
The Smiths,
Eli Mardock,
The Standells,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultra Naté,
The Fugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Michelle Simonal,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
Pantaleimon,
Morten Harket,
Intrusion,
Lyres,
Magazine,
Marvin Gaye,
OOIOO,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Monks,
Japan,
Sixth Finger,
Urselle,
Yusef Lateef,
Skriet,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fifty Foot Hose,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.