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 Argentina and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 guitar 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 Cowsills to the electroclash 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Aswad,
Newcleus,
Ossler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Erykah Badu,
The Invisible,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dead Boys,
New York Dolls,
Nas,
Suburban Knight,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Surgeon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy Collins,
Gang Starr,
Archie Shepp,
New Order,
Joe Finger,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sex Pistols,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hashim,
Y Pants,
a-ha,
The Neon Judgement,
The Stooges,
Gang Green,
Moss Icon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alison Limerick,
Make Up,
Slick Rick,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Byrd,
Al Stewart,
Dennis Brown,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oblivians,
Leonard Cohen,
Peter and Kerry,
In Retrospect,
Black Pus,
The Music Machine,
The Fugs,
The Gun Club,
Susan Cadogan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sugar Minott,
Throbbing Gristle,
Buzzcocks,
Echospace,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.