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 Botswana and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Drexciya to the punk 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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
In Retrospect,
The Slits,
Quadrant,
Dennis Brown,
Tres Demented,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Bananas,
Neu!,
Kenny Larkin,
Jandek,
Barrington Levy,
Television,
The Skatalites,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
The Offenders,
Graham Central Station,
Duran Duran,
Carl Craig,
Cybotron,
the Swans,
Cameo,
Malaria!,
Symarip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cure,
Monks,
The Cramps,
Man Parrish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Simply Red,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Cell,
Yazoo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mojo Men,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pagans,
Pantaleimon,
Laurel Aitken,
Desert Stars,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
Max Romeo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Toasters,
New Order,
Yaz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Groovy Waters,
Outsiders,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
Jacques Brel,
Marshall Jefferson,
Supertramp,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.