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 Paraguay and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lee Hazlewood to the grunge 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Suburban Knight,
the Sonics,
The Techniques,
Jandek,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Unrelated Segments,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tim Buckley,
Accadde A,
Fad Gadget,
The Happenings,
Monks,
Oblivians,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rhythm & Sound,
June of 44,
Second Layer,
Franke,
The Cramps,
Trumans Water,
The Buckinghams,
Mark Hollis,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Blake Baxter,
Brick,
Rotary Connection,
Suicide,
10cc,
Al Stewart,
Minnie Riperton,
Duran Duran,
Cal Tjader,
Silicon Teens,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Symarip,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Saccharine Trust,
The Selecter,
Black Flag,
Jawbox,
Inner City,
Moss Icon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Black Dice,
Jacob Miller,
The Sound,
Public Enemy,
Sam Rivers,
Donny Hathaway,
The Vogues,
Ken Boothe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dennis Brown,
The Remains,
EPMD,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.