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 Iraq and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Laurel Aitken to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gong,
Cameo,
Dave Gahan,
Josef K,
Technova,
Alice Coltrane,
Malaria!,
Ultravox,
Graham Central Station,
Roger Hodgson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bootsy Collins,
Lucky Dragons,
the Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Slits,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siglo XX,
Johnny Clarke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Evens,
The Associates,
Bill Near,
Angry Samoans,
Masters at Work,
Idris Muhammad,
Stiv Bators,
48th St. Collective,
Smog,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
Urselle,
Ronnie Foster,
The Busters,
The Gladiators,
Whodini,
Jacques Brel,
LL Cool J,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
These Immortal Souls,
Marine Girls,
Niagra,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Certain Ratio,
10cc,
Quantec,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Japan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funky Four + One,
Vainqueur,
Brand Nubian,
Gichy Dan,
B.T. Express,
Wally Richardson,
The Blues Magoos,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Avey Tare,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.