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 Bolivia 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Holger Czukay 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 Kinks to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Robert Hood,
Black Flag,
Bush Tetras,
Surgeon,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
The Gun Club,
R.M.O.,
Simply Red,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
Subhumans,
Warsaw,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crooked Eye,
The Cramps,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ,
Joensuu 1685,
The Mojo Men,
Rekid,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crash Course in Science,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Juan Atkins,
Sparks,
Cheater Slicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Main Source,
Amon Düül II,
Accadde A,
Quadrant,
Minor Threat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
Cybotron,
Niagra,
Von Mondo,
Vainqueur,
Hot Snakes,
Masters at Work,
Scrapy,
Derrick Morgan,
Ohio Players,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Schoolly D,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-Ray Spex,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.