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 Turkey and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Supertramp,
Lightning Bolt,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
Mad Mike,
Nirvana,
DNA,
Bush Tetras,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grey Daturas,
Rapeman,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Sherman,
Yazoo,
Icehouse,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hot Snakes,
Danielle Patucci,
Arab on Radar,
Fugazi,
Dave Gahan,
Joe Smooth,
Iggy Pop,
Wally Richardson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pussy Galore,
Joey Negro,
Swans,
Agent Orange,
Lakeside,
Pierre Henry,
Agitation Free,
Quadrant,
Scratch Acid,
U.S. Maple,
The Electric Prunes,
Tim Buckley,
E-Dancer,
Urselle,
Suicide,
AZ,
The United States of America,
Massinfluence,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mo-Dettes,
Amon Düül II,
D'Angelo,
Roxy Music,
The Sonics,
Procol Harum,
These Immortal Souls,
Bronski Beat,
Gichy Dan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ituana,
Interpol,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Second Layer,
Donald Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brothers Johnson,
Los Fastidios,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.