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 Albania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Goldenarms to the disco 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ponytail,
Gang of Four,
Brothers Johnson,
Minnie Riperton,
Inner City,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Freddie Wadling,
Swell Maps,
Unrelated Segments,
Bronski Beat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cramps,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Human League,
Pere Ubu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yellowson,
Slick Rick,
The Dead C,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Invisible,
Eve St. Jones,
Blancmange,
Matthew Bourne,
Clear Light,
Thompson Twins,
Toni Rubio,
Fugazi,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Slackers,
Amazonics,
Arcadia,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Ken Boothe,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smiths,
Kaleidoscope,
The Pop Group,
Patti Smith,
JFA,
Jeff Mills,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mr. Review,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Certain Ratio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Davy DMX,
B.T. Express,
The Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
World's Most,
Boz Scaggs,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.