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 Finland 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fire Engines to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
LL Cool J,
Don Cherry,
Blake Baxter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marcia Griffiths,
Organ,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Near,
Scan 7,
Joyce Sims,
Spoonie Gee,
T. Rex,
Fluxion,
Niagra,
Babytalk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Altered Images,
Kool Moe Dee,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter & Gordon,
Terrestrial Tones,
David Axelrod,
Gong,
Skaos,
Sonic Youth,
Jawbox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Desert Stars,
Marc Almond,
Sex Pistols,
James White and The Blacks,
Idris Muhammad,
Newcleus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Television,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Doors,
The Pop Group,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kurtis Blow,
Clear Light,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sight & Sound,
Peter and Kerry,
Faraquet,
Sandy B,
Althea and Donna,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Machine,
PIL,
Bizarre Inc.,
OOIOO,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Leonard Cohen,
Camouflage,
Ludus,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.