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 Tuvalu and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Animal Collective to the rap 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Sonic Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Cybotron,
Gang Starr,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Pantytec,
The Kinks,
The Techniques,
The Neon Judgement,
Piero Umiliani,
Subhumans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Divine Comedy,
Darondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Danielle Patucci,
Mandrill,
Loose Ends,
The Mojo Men,
Maurizio,
The Dirtbombs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rapeman,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Modern Lovers,
Harry Pussy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Faust,
Unrelated Segments,
Khruangbin,
The Invisible,
Lower 48,
The Monochrome Set,
Skriet,
The Young Rascals,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Moss Icon,
the Human League,
The Busters,
The Move,
U.S. Maple,
Fugazi,
Jeff Lynne,
Outsiders,
Section 25,
The Litter,
Tubeway Army,
Spandau Ballet,
Chris Corsano,
The Gories,
Shoche,
Archie Shepp,
Desert Stars,
L. Decosne,
The Victims,
Joey Negro,
Whodini,
The American Breed,
Drexciya,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.