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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar 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 Drive Like Jehu to the rap 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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Y Pants,
The Fuzztones,
The Blues Magoos,
48th St. Collective,
Excepter,
Chrome,
The Alarm Clocks,
Von Mondo,
The Gories,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Normal,
Bobby Womack,
The Smoke,
John Holt,
Rakim,
Make Up,
In Retrospect,
Piero Umiliani,
Nico,
World's Most,
The Star Department,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Das Ding,
Reagan Youth,
The Litter,
Heaven 17,
Mandrill,
Intrusion,
Glenn Branca,
The Remains,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lalann,
Swans,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Joe Finger,
Pylon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lakeside,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Soul Sonic Force,
Warsaw,
Pussy Galore,
Arthur Verocai,
F. McDonald,
Rotary Connection,
Masters at Work,
Pharoah Sanders,
Malaria!,
Suburban Knight,
The Wake,
Roxette,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Trumans Water,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mojo Men,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.