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 Colombia and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Association,
L. Decosne,
The Music Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick Morgan,
Television,
Soft Machine,
Silicon Teens,
Buzzcocks,
Andrew Hill,
Wings,
Erasure,
Royal Trux,
Eric Copeland,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grauzone,
Albert Ayler,
Y Pants,
Brick,
The Monks,
David McCallum,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
D'Angelo,
Nirvana,
Robert Wyatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Pretty Things,
The Dead C,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
Sällskapet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yellowson,
Black Moon,
Pussy Galore,
Excepter,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Pus,
The Cure,
Juan Atkins,
Patti Smith,
Trumans Water,
Cybotron,
Radiohead,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Junior Murvin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Make Up,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Yaz,
LL Cool J,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.