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 Saudi Arabia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the punk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Ludus,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Slave,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Moleskins,
In Retrospect,
Ronnie Foster,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
The Seeds,
Hashim,
Young Marble Giants,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dennis Brown,
Yusef Lateef,
Youth Brigade,
Sugar Minott,
Kenny Larkin,
Erasure,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gap Band,
The Gories,
U.S. Maple,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric Dolphy,
The Divine Comedy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kas Product,
The Zeros,
Smog,
Stockholm Monsters,
New Age Steppers,
Animal Collective,
Steve Hackett,
The Selecter,
Marvin Gaye,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yaz,
Sister Nancy,
The Cure,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rapeman,
One Last Wish,
Skarface,
Pagans,
Ornette Coleman,
Anakelly,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Agitation Free,
Swell Maps,
Mantronix,
Nick Fraelich,
Intrusion,
the Slits,
Khruangbin,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.