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 Eritrea and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Saints to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camberwell Now,
Pagans,
Faraquet,
Dennis Brown,
The Fuzztones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultra Naté,
Stereo Dub,
Minnie Riperton,
The Pop Group,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joyce Sims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Aaron Thompson,
Cal Tjader,
Zapp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Monolake,
Thompson Twins,
Mantronix,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Knickerbockers,
Clear Light,
Jeff Mills,
Jawbox,
the Sonics,
Suburban Knight,
Matthew Halsall,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deadbeat,
Faust,
Marvin Gaye,
Minny Pops,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quando Quango,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Wake,
The Cramps,
Index,
UT,
One Last Wish,
Fatback Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Quantec,
The United States of America,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Wyatt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
Moby Grape,
Los Fastidios,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.