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 Guyana and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Ponytail,
Con Funk Shun,
L. Decosne,
Carl Craig,
Pere Ubu,
One Last Wish,
Panda Bear,
The Knickerbockers,
Sister Nancy,
Altered Images,
Public Enemy,
The Misunderstood,
Siglo XX,
The Blackbyrds,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
LL Cool J,
Sixth Finger,
The Electric Prunes,
Toni Rubio,
Magma,
Warsaw,
June Days,
Can,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
48th St. Collective,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sight & Sound,
Brick,
John Cale,
Rosa Yemen,
Roy Ayers,
Little Man,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Pantaleimon,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Near,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mojo Men,
Liliput,
Adolescents,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Dead C,
Fatback Band,
Masters at Work,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barrington Levy,
Television Personalities,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Schoolly D,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rod Modell,
Japan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Basic Channel,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.