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 Seychelles and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultravox to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke 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 grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Eve St. Jones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Stooges,
Black Pus,
LL Cool J,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
U.S. Maple,
Depeche Mode,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swans,
Stetsasonic,
Reagan Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Siglo XX,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kurtis Blow,
Shoche,
The Raincoats,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Shuggie Otis,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeff Mills,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Monks,
Wally Richardson,
Pagans,
ABC,
Altered Images,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Halsall,
Flipper,
The Dave Clark Five,
Franke,
Marvin Gaye,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Q65,
Isaac Hayes,
Grauzone,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Traffic Nightmare,
R.M.O.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Mummies,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
Cybotron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
D'Angelo,
The Sonics,
David McCallum,
The Blues Magoos,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Red Krayola,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.