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 Latvia and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Pretty Things to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Smog,
Pussy Galore,
Franke,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bill Wells,
Skaos,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tomorrow,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Derrick May,
Eric Dolphy,
The Tremeloes,
John Lydon,
The Moleskins,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fortunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
A Certain Ratio,
Kurtis Blow,
Lindisfarne,
The Mummies,
Bad Manners,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mars,
Bobby Byrd,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swell Maps,
Funkadelic,
Shuggie Otis,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-Ray Spex,
The Durutti Column,
Moby Grape,
B.T. Express,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scion,
Harmonia,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Delon & Dalcan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scratch Acid,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Godley & Creme,
Reuben Wilson,
James White and The Blacks,
Tears for Fears,
Clear Light,
The Sound,
The Toasters,
Mandrill,
Judy Mowatt,
Lalo Schifrin,
Underground Resistance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kaleidoscope,
Von Mondo,
Panda Bear,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.