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 Afghanistan and from Calgary.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Quantec,
The Cramps,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sunsets and Hearts,
China Crisis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ronnie Foster,
Zero Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marmalade,
Lyres,
Roxy Music,
Al Stewart,
The Grass Roots,
The Skatalites,
L. Decosne,
Brass Construction,
Suicide,
Anthony Braxton,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Dead C,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cecil Taylor,
Technova,
Popol Vuh,
Todd Rundgren,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Alice Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
the Human League,
Babytalk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Byron Stingily,
Sugar Minott,
Rotary Connection,
Delon & Dalcan,
David Bowie,
Gang of Four,
Second Layer,
T.S.O.L.,
Piero Umiliani,
Lalo Schifrin,
Los Fastidios,
Delta 5,
Livin' Joy,
Lakeside,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Visage,
Clear Light,
Donny Hathaway,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mojo Men,
Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
The Wake,
Infiniti,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.