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 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Adolescents,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sonic Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fugazi,
Franke,
Accadde A,
The Monks,
Altered Images,
Sun Ra,
The Raincoats,
Rhythm & Sound,
E-Dancer,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat,
Ultra Naté,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Mummies,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cluster,
Don Cherry,
K-Klass,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Detroit Cobras,
Curtis Mayfield,
UT,
Stetsasonic,
Dark Day,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suburban Knight,
Marmalade,
Soul Sonic Force,
PIL,
Icehouse,
The Litter,
Con Funk Shun,
Quadrant,
Ossler,
Model 500,
The Leaves,
Smog,
Bad Manners,
One Last Wish,
Stereo Dub,
Pussy Galore,
The Fire Engines,
Fad Gadget,
Charles Mingus,
The Cowsills,
Leonard Cohen,
Soulsonic Force,
Mary Jane Girls,
Animal Collective,
Matthew Halsall,
Sound Behaviour,
The Beau Brummels,
Ronan,
Infiniti,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.