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 Uruguay and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the electroclash 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Swell Maps,
Pere Ubu,
Slave,
Susan Cadogan,
Supertramp,
Roxette,
Bill Wells,
The Fall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aural Exciters,
Faust,
Boredoms,
Reagan Youth,
Scratch Acid,
The Last Poets,
Y Pants,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Real Kids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fear,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
World's Most,
Lakeside,
Albert Ayler,
Peter & Gordon,
Maleditus Sound,
Sun Ra,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Seeds,
Black Moon,
Clear Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fuzztones,
Neil Young,
Mission of Burma,
Eli Mardock,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Hasil Adkins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Saccharine Trust,
Archie Shepp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Siglo XX,
Absolute Body Control,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ice-T,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dual Sessions,
Marine Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Qualms,
The Zeros,
Circle Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quando Quango,
The Mummies,
Yellowson,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.