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 Romania and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
Faraquet,
Laurel Aitken,
Lee Hazlewood,
8 Eyed Spy,
T.S.O.L.,
Darondo,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultra Naté,
Anthony Braxton,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magma,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Womack,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Excepter,
DJ Sneak,
Lyres,
OOIOO,
Depeche Mode,
Ten City,
Todd Rundgren,
Scion,
Quadrant,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Music Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Man Parrish,
Mars,
Crispy Ambulance,
The American Breed,
Rites of Spring,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mummies,
The Buckinghams,
The Barracudas,
Franke,
Angry Samoans,
Average White Band,
B.T. Express,
Babytalk,
Jerry's Kids,
Unwound,
Sun City Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gichy Dan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.