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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Youth Brigade to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Brothers Johnson,
New York Dolls,
Toni Rubio,
Wasted Youth,
Soft Machine,
Marine Girls,
Cal Tjader,
a-ha,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sam Rivers,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eden Ahbez,
Alice Coltrane,
Colin Newman,
Brick,
Black Pus,
Moby Grape,
F. McDonald,
H. Thieme,
Unrelated Segments,
The Angels of Light,
Alton Ellis,
The Standells,
Nirvana,
Rufus Thomas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dark Day,
Newcleus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Drexciya,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Sight & Sound,
Franke,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lungfish,
R.M.O.,
Los Fastidios,
The Music Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Man Parrish,
Max Romeo,
Jacob Miller,
Ice-T,
The Offenders,
Dawn Penn,
T. Rex,
The Star Department,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roger Hodgson,
Fela Kuti,
Wally Richardson,
Carl Craig,
Derrick Morgan,
The New Christs,
Minutemen,
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
Lakeside,
Roxette,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.