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 Germany and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Minor Threat to the funk 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Bob Dylan,
Connie Case,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Teasers,
This Heat,
Black Sheep,
Soft Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jandek,
Average White Band,
Cecil Taylor,
ABBA,
The Vogues,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stereo Dub,
Dual Sessions,
Joyce Sims,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Blackbyrds,
Los Fastidios,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Loose Ends,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Byron Stingily,
Ronnie Foster,
Main Source,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tears for Fears,
The Dead C,
Kerri Chandler,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Lynne,
Von Mondo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Negative Approach,
Sixth Finger,
Excepter,
Minor Threat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sister Nancy,
Yaz,
Scion,
Juan Atkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantaleimon,
Audionom,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Flag,
the Human League,
Rites of Spring,
Livin' Joy,
Urselle,
John Coltrane,
Basic Channel,
Wasted Youth,
The Last Poets,
Icehouse,
Aural Exciters,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.