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 Tajikistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Modern Lovers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Little Man,
Monolake,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Yaz,
Henry Cow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minnie Riperton,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
Ice-T,
kango's stein massive,
Darondo,
Joe Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nils Olav,
Brass Construction,
The Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Lungfish,
Mantronix,
The Birthday Party,
Moby Grape,
The Move,
Second Layer,
Idris Muhammad,
Marvin Gaye,
EPMD,
Graham Central Station,
Severed Heads,
Young Marble Giants,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Modern Lovers,
Ponytail,
Funkadelic,
Pierre Henry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New Order,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Can,
Swans,
Pylon,
Derrick May,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dennis Brown,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Stooges,
Letta Mbulu,
Urselle,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.