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 Senegal and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Radio Birdman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Audionom,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultra Naté,
Thee Headcoats,
H. Thieme,
AZ,
The Moleskins,
Faraquet,
Ornette Coleman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Adolescents,
Funky Four + One,
Gang Gang Dance,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Tremeloes,
E-Dancer,
Jerry's Kids,
Rod Modell,
Kerrie Biddell,
Angry Samoans,
Peter & Gordon,
Eli Mardock,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Green,
Pagans,
Vladislav Delay,
Eve St. Jones,
Ronan,
Depeche Mode,
Swell Maps,
Average White Band,
Deakin,
Scott Walker,
Model 500,
Pantaleimon,
Alice Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
Lou Reed,
Bang On A Can,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brothers Johnson,
Eurythmics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Junior Murvin,
The Black Dice,
June of 44,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joyce Sims,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Japan,
Absolute Body Control,
Lucky Dragons,
The Human League,
Trumans Water,
The Mummies,
Bobby Womack,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.