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 Belgium and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Vladislav Delay to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a theremin 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?
Byron Stingily,
Jacques Brel,
Nick Fraelich,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonic Youth,
Dual Sessions,
Radio Birdman,
Crash Course in Science,
Pylon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Grass Roots,
David McCallum,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fugs,
Little Man,
Magazine,
The Neon Judgement,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James White and The Blacks,
D'Angelo,
Sight & Sound,
Visage,
Prince Buster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marine Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Circle Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Deadbeat,
Brand Nubian,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Symarip,
Moebius,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chrome,
The Mummies,
kango's stein massive,
Rotary Connection,
The Detroit Cobras,
Andrew Hill,
Hasil Adkins,
Derrick May,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Icehouse,
The Red Krayola,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Archie Shepp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
Black Pus,
Bill Near,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Reuben Wilson,
John Coltrane,
H. Thieme,
The Smoke,
David Axelrod,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.