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 Senegal and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Count Five to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Little Man,
Scan 7,
Mr. Review,
Supertramp,
Letta Mbulu,
Depeche Mode,
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Henry Cow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eve St. Jones,
The Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sister Nancy,
Byron Stingily,
Sun City Girls,
Brand Nubian,
June of 44,
Kas Product,
Hardrive,
E-Dancer,
Q and Not U,
The Pop Group,
Mandrill,
Popol Vuh,
The Smiths,
Blancmange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Make Up,
The Offenders,
Stiv Bators,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
kango's stein massive,
Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Easy Going,
Goldenarms,
Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Althea and Donna,
a-ha,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stereo Dub,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
New York Dolls,
Bad Manners,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Robert Wyatt,
Minnie Riperton,
Scion,
Iggy Pop,
Half Japanese,
the Germs,
Isaac Hayes,
The Busters,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.