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 Argentina and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Leonard Cohen to the dance 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Roy Ayers,
Yellowson,
Marine Girls,
Easy Going,
Piero Umiliani,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chrome,
X-Ray Spex,
Absolute Body Control,
Depeche Mode,
Little Man,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
Bang On A Can,
Average White Band,
The Durutti Column,
The Toasters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agitation Free,
Johnny Clarke,
Fat Boys,
Jandek,
The Cramps,
Pole,
Patti Smith,
Excepter,
Unrelated Segments,
kango's stein massive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Icehouse,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Moon,
Accadde A,
Sight & Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
Minny Pops,
Mandrill,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
The Residents,
Motorama,
Michelle Simonal,
The Seeds,
Marmalade,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lungfish,
Television,
The Knickerbockers,
The Velvet Underground,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pantaleimon,
Deadbeat,
Malaria!,
Swell Maps,
Glenn Branca,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Skarface,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.