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 Yemen and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 Jawbox to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Schoolly D,
Main Source,
The Five Americans,
B.T. Express,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Simply Red,
Severed Heads,
Faust,
Scott Walker,
Ronnie Foster,
New York Dolls,
The Blues Magoos,
Marine Girls,
Magma,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Siglo XX,
KRS-One,
Bad Manners,
John Holt,
Barrington Levy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Lydon,
The Trojans,
Malaria!,
Black Moon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Arab on Radar,
Gichy Dan,
Eddi Front,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Normal,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Womack,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Busters,
The Gun Club,
Blossom Toes,
The Slackers,
Massinfluence,
Yaz,
Iggy Pop,
OOIOO,
Second Layer,
Davy DMX,
the Germs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Max Romeo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cluster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wasted Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Babytalk,
Vladislav Delay,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Banda Bassotti,
Prince Buster,
Los Fastidios,
K-Klass,
Model 500,
Stockholm Monsters,
Trumans Water,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.