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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Searchers to the electroclash 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Infiniti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Robert Hood,
Yaz,
Ossler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Whodini,
Tomorrow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swell Maps,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The New Christs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Glenn Branca,
Liliput,
Crooked Eye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eve St. Jones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wire,
Amazonics,
Funky Four + One,
Iggy Pop,
The Doors,
Girls At Our Best!,
DNA,
Shuggie Otis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scrapy,
David McCallum,
Bill Wells,
Josef K,
Fear,
Lakeside,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roxy Music,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
Underground Resistance,
Cameo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Traffic Nightmare,
Absolute Body Control,
Spoonie Gee,
Crime,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slave,
Animal Collective,
Television,
Lucky Dragons,
Nico,
Letta Mbulu,
Dark Day,
Monks,
Los Fastidios,
Mark Hollis,
Thompson Twins,
Malaria!,
June Days,
Erasure,
Brand Nubian,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.