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 Moldova and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronnie Foster,
John Holt,
Lindisfarne,
Minutemen,
Smog,
Outsiders,
The Leaves,
The Cramps,
Crooked Eye,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cameo,
Pylon,
Circle Jerks,
Quadrant,
Radio Birdman,
Erykah Badu,
Joe Finger,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Altered Images,
Eric Dolphy,
Inner City,
the Normal,
48th St. Collective,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tomorrow,
The Slackers,
Suburban Knight,
Lebanon Hanover,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sight & Sound,
Metal Thangz,
Jacob Miller,
Godley & Creme,
Los Fastidios,
Half Japanese,
The Walker Brothers,
Tres Demented,
The Buckinghams,
The Busters,
Television Personalities,
Cheater Slicks,
Graham Central Station,
Das Ding,
Parry Music,
Slick Rick,
Flipper,
CMW,
Bang On A Can,
Sixth Finger,
The Music Machine,
Scrapy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Aaron Thompson,
Freddie Wadling,
Bizarre Inc.,
Juan Atkins,
Von Mondo,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.