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 Tanzania and from Hong Kong.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Suicide to the jazz 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Harpers Bizarre,
One Last Wish,
Eddi Front,
Max Romeo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ronnie Foster,
Pussy Galore,
Sällskapet,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Skatalites,
Pylon,
Spoonie Gee,
The Toasters,
John Lydon,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
Sam Rivers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Siglo XX,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Scrapy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quantec,
Chrome,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fuzztones,
Porter Ricks,
The Five Americans,
The Blackbyrds,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Durutti Column,
Ken Boothe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Colin Newman,
Youth Brigade,
Index,
New Order,
Josef K,
Sister Nancy,
Kenny Larkin,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monochrome Set,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yellowson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
UT,
World's Most,
Excepter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q65,
Amon Düül II,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Age Steppers,
Surgeon,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.