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 Haiti and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cluster to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Deakin,
The Doobie Brothers,
FM Einheit,
In Retrospect,
H. Thieme,
The Victims,
Clear Light,
Davy DMX,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Kinks,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Moon,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Monks,
Roger Hodgson,
D'Angelo,
The Gun Club,
Visage,
Jandek,
Skarface,
Sparks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barrington Levy,
The Red Krayola,
Vladislav Delay,
Nirvana,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scrapy,
Fatback Band,
The Trojans,
Wire,
DNA,
Archie Shepp,
Alice Coltrane,
The Happenings,
The Remains,
Ralphi Rosario,
Qualms,
Niagra,
New Order,
Pierre Henry,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric Dolphy,
The Misunderstood,
Ohio Players,
Pantytec,
Lungfish,
Robert Hood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grey Daturas,
Dead Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Faust,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Excepter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pussy Galore,
Alison Limerick,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.