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 Suriname and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Trojans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Blackbyrds,
T. Rex,
Organ,
Pantytec,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Drexciya,
X-101,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Fraelich,
Siglo XX,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roger Hodgson,
Soulsonic Force,
Smog,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Christie,
Bang On A Can,
Lightning Bolt,
The Beau Brummels,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Skaos,
The Grass Roots,
Duran Duran,
Mission of Burma,
a-ha,
Jacques Brel,
Ken Boothe,
Davy DMX,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lower 48,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lee Hazlewood,
Delon & Dalcan,
Prince Buster,
Hot Snakes,
Amon Düül II,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
David McCallum,
Kayak,
Nas,
Don Cherry,
Swans,
John Lydon,
Max Romeo,
The American Breed,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Bananas,
Boredoms,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gabor Szabo,
Little Man,
Intrusion,
Faraquet,
Laurel Aitken,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New York Dolls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Sonics,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.