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 Greece and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Section 25 to the grunge 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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Ludus,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Bananas,
Kurtis Blow,
Amon Düül,
Rekid,
Ken Boothe,
Alice Coltrane,
A Certain Ratio,
L. Decosne,
Bill Near,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Scion,
Black Moon,
Pierre Henry,
Electric Prunes,
Icehouse,
Das Ding,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Donald Byrd,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Junior Murvin,
Oneida,
Suburban Knight,
Kaleidoscope,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marmalade,
Glenn Branca,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minor Threat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Royal Trux,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
Chrome,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed,
Animal Collective,
X-102,
Flipper,
Country Teasers,
Ralphi Rosario,
K-Klass,
Brass Construction,
Sound Behaviour,
Maleditus Sound,
Nils Olav,
Godley & Creme,
Tubeway Army,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.