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 Korea North and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Byron Stingily to the crunk 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Albert Ayler,
Severed Heads,
Radio Birdman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crooked Eye,
K-Klass,
Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vainqueur,
Yaz,
Henry Cow,
Monks,
Simply Red,
The Dirtbombs,
Junior Murvin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gabor Szabo,
Goldenarms,
Mark Hollis,
Los Fastidios,
Dennis Brown,
Nick Fraelich,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Moon,
FM Einheit,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bob Dylan,
Alphaville,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gun Club,
Pylon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sun Ra,
Hoover,
Bobby Sherman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grey Daturas,
The J.B.'s,
Blossom Toes,
The Tremeloes,
Erykah Badu,
Jerry's Kids,
Sam Rivers,
Tommy Roe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Intrusion,
Reagan Youth,
John Cale,
The Five Americans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeff Mills,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.