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 Mozambique and from Tokyo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Roy Ayers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
EPMD,
Donny Hathaway,
Barbara Tucker,
The Kinks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pagans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Marmalade,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sex Pistols,
JFA,
Spoonie Gee,
Basic Channel,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Groovy Waters,
ABC,
John Foxx,
Rod Modell,
Echospace,
Tomorrow,
Robert Hood,
Howard Jones,
Inner City,
the Human League,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Maurizio,
Severed Heads,
The Tremeloes,
Ronnie Foster,
DNA,
LL Cool J,
DJ Style,
Gang Green,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Iggy Pop,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blues Magoos,
Joey Negro,
Thee Headcoats,
The J.B.'s,
The Busters,
Skarface,
The Five Americans,
Roxette,
Donald Byrd,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
Bizarre Inc.,
Subhumans,
The Moleskins,
Absolute Body Control,
Albert Ayler,
Fela Kuti,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.