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 Paraguay and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Swell Maps to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Television Personalities,
Joensuu 1685,
Intrusion,
Soft Machine,
Yazoo,
Rufus Thomas,
Deakin,
Lindisfarne,
L. Decosne,
Lalann,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Toasters,
The Happenings,
The Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
Radiohead,
Letta Mbulu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Franke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Avey Tare,
Fear,
Smog,
Swans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacques Brel,
Sarah Menescal,
Ossler,
Minor Threat,
Mad Mike,
Rites of Spring,
Scrapy,
Donald Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joy Division,
The Angels of Light,
Second Layer,
Amon Düül II,
David McCallum,
Arthur Verocai,
Cluster,
Sällskapet,
the Soft Cell,
Unwound,
Chris Corsano,
Brick,
Barry Ungar,
Colin Newman,
Brass Construction,
Connie Case,
Henry Cow,
Joe Finger,
New Order,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siglo XX,
Sister Nancy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.