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 Vietnam 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
Moss Icon,
Cameo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wally Richardson,
Jandek,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roxette,
The Motions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funky Four + One,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry's Kids,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Bourne,
Mission of Burma,
Ten City,
Banda Bassotti,
Nico,
Lou Christie,
Quando Quango,
Fela Kuti,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Womack,
R.M.O.,
Johnny Clarke,
Grey Daturas,
Chris Corsano,
Connie Case,
Excepter,
Franke,
Little Man,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
Susan Cadogan,
John Coltrane,
The Gun Club,
The Count Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers,
Section 25,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tom Boy,
The Standells,
Unrelated Segments,
Clear Light,
DJ Sneak,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Sheep,
The Gap Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lucky Dragons,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pagans,
Youth Brigade,
Brand Nubian,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.