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 Liechtenstein and from London.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Hasil Adkins to the rap 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Joe Finger,
Joensuu 1685,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barclay James Harvest,
Metal Thangz,
Yusef Lateef,
Audionom,
Talk Talk,
Lyres,
Prince Buster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Juan Atkins,
Barry Ungar,
Moebius,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gories,
Jerry's Kids,
The Victims,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Normal,
Michelle Simonal,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Womack,
Technova,
David McCallum,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
Rapeman,
New Age Steppers,
Young Marble Giants,
Sixth Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
Hot Snakes,
Lou Christie,
Marine Girls,
Little Man,
Man Parrish,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eric B and Rakim,
JFA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Reagan Youth,
The Evens,
Bootsy Collins,
Suburban Knight,
Beasts of Bourbon,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Byrd,
Duran Duran,
Toni Rubio,
The Last Poets,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jandek,
Altered Images,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.