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 Uruguay and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Lou Reed to the electroclash 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
The Mummies,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ponytail,
The American Breed,
Donald Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
The Leaves,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dead Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dead C,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joensuu 1685,
Arthur Verocai,
Lucky Dragons,
Tomorrow,
Eric Copeland,
Bob Dylan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Rundgren,
Sam Rivers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Slits,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Move,
Radiohead,
Albert Ayler,
Joey Negro,
Dark Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fugazi,
Ronnie Foster,
Unwound,
Mark Hollis,
James White and The Blacks,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
The Seeds,
John Lydon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
kango's stein massive,
Bad Manners,
Sister Nancy,
Letta Mbulu,
Barrington Levy,
Rufus Thomas,
Slave,
Basic Channel,
D'Angelo,
Andrew Hill,
H. Thieme,
Faraquet,
Nas,
Aswad,
The Fugs,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.