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 Mauritius and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Parry Music to the dance 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funkadelic,
Lalo Schifrin,
L. Decosne,
In Retrospect,
Urselle,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
the Germs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Chris Corsano,
Jeff Mills,
The Black Dice,
The Velvet Underground,
KRS-One,
The Barracudas,
The Count Five,
Barrington Levy,
Nico,
Sam Rivers,
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Iggy Pop,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Max Romeo,
Spoonie Gee,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aswad,
Grey Daturas,
X-Ray Spex,
Thompson Twins,
Ice-T,
Whodini,
Electric Prunes,
John Coltrane,
The Grass Roots,
Ultravox,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Gabor Szabo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Almond,
Scan 7,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Monks,
Nick Fraelich,
Yazoo,
The Divine Comedy,
The Modern Lovers,
Dave Gahan,
Qualms,
The Litter,
Wally Richardson,
The Real Kids,
The Pop Group,
Danielle Patucci,
Cameo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ronnie Foster,
Idris Muhammad,
Scrapy,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.