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 Burundi and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron 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 The Grass Roots to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
New York Dolls,
Depeche Mode,
Camberwell Now,
Darondo,
Jacques Brel,
Toni Rubio,
Johnny Clarke,
AZ,
Sex Pistols,
Marc Almond,
Gang Starr,
Glenn Branca,
Fela Kuti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stiv Bators,
Neu!,
Roxette,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Hood,
Spandau Ballet,
Half Japanese,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radiohead,
Anakelly,
Lucky Dragons,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Bananas,
The Blackbyrds,
The Evens,
Skriet,
Skarface,
Gichy Dan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mark Hollis,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Christie,
Aloha Tigers,
Soulsonic Force,
Suburban Knight,
The J.B.'s,
Kaleidoscope,
The Pop Group,
T. Rex,
The Monks,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
Bill Wells,
The Searchers,
Prince Buster,
Todd Rundgren,
Con Funk Shun,
Albert Ayler,
Scott Walker,
Kas Product,
Agitation Free,
Black Flag,
The Kinks,
Steve Hackett,
Spoonie Gee,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.