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 Barbados and from Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Black Sheep to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jandek record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oblivians,
Scion,
Piero Umiliani,
Masters at Work,
Visage,
Nas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Vladislav Delay,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neu!,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Near,
Simply Red,
Sandy B,
Fat Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Deakin,
Anthony Braxton,
Mission of Burma,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blackbyrds,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smiths,
Jeff Lynne,
Barry Ungar,
Aloha Tigers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June of 44,
Buzzcocks,
Scan 7,
The Golliwogs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Funky Four + One,
The Cramps,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Circle Jerks,
Dead Boys,
David McCallum,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fire Engines,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Almond,
a-ha,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Moon,
Das Ding,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.