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 Tanzania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Babytalk to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Rapeman,
the Soft Cell,
Althea and Donna,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
Deepchord,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David McCallum,
Lower 48,
Robert Görl,
The Standells,
Moss Icon,
Jawbox,
Bill Wells,
Kenny Larkin,
U.S. Maple,
China Crisis,
Underground Resistance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Motions,
Vainqueur,
Neu!,
10cc,
Jandek,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Hood,
Terry Callier,
The Busters,
Sex Pistols,
Liliput,
Don Cherry,
Nik Kershaw,
Pere Ubu,
The American Breed,
The Five Americans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arab on Radar,
Rod Modell,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Skaos,
Surgeon,
Lucky Dragons,
Soft Cell,
Pagans,
Minnie Riperton,
Yellowson,
Public Enemy,
Mark Hollis,
Aswad,
cv313,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Derrick Morgan,
Crooked Eye,
The Martian,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.