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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Oblivians to the techno 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Starr,
Soft Machine,
The Walker Brothers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
FM Einheit,
Bluetip,
Dennis Brown,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
kango's stein massive,
Desert Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Grass Roots,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sound,
The Modern Lovers,
Max Romeo,
The Stooges,
The American Breed,
Nils Olav,
Bizarre Inc.,
Monks,
Rites of Spring,
The Flesh Eaters,
UT,
Agent Orange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Smiths,
Ultra Naté,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minutemen,
Interpol,
The Five Americans,
The Happenings,
Stockholm Monsters,
JFA,
the Association,
Lalann,
E-Dancer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Seeds,
Inner City,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül II,
Saccharine Trust,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Unrelated Segments,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sex Pistols,
Mars,
Radio Birdman,
Lyres,
Aswad,
Depeche Mode,
Buzzcocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cramps,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Slits,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.