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 Cambodia and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cal Tjader to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Monks,
Can,
Subhumans,
Robert Wyatt,
Dawn Penn,
Eli Mardock,
Sun Ra,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Near,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arab on Radar,
Bronski Beat,
Lalo Schifrin,
LL Cool J,
Jawbox,
The Divine Comedy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rites of Spring,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barry Ungar,
Mr. Review,
Minor Threat,
Gang of Four,
Organ,
Anakelly,
Sarah Menescal,
Gichy Dan,
The Dirtbombs,
Mark Hollis,
Gong,
Fluxion,
John Holt,
Andrew Hill,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Khruangbin,
cv313,
Roger Hodgson,
Deakin,
Kaleidoscope,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Newcleus,
Severed Heads,
Flipper,
Audionom,
The Searchers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Peter and Kerry,
Spoonie Gee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Red Krayola,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Martian,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Terry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Little Man,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.