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 Niger and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Buckinghams to the crunk 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DNA,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wally Richardson,
Arcadia,
La Düsseldorf,
Hasil Adkins,
Nirvana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra,
Alison Limerick,
T. Rex,
Grey Daturas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Erasure,
the Swans,
Albert Ayler,
Reagan Youth,
John Foxx,
Pulsallama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jacques Brel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Section 25,
Jerry's Kids,
The Skatalites,
Mantronix,
Marine Girls,
The Black Dice,
the Slits,
The Cure,
Flipper,
Spandau Ballet,
Eurythmics,
Kas Product,
Television,
Theoretical Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Danielle Patucci,
The Names,
Sarah Menescal,
The Invisible,
Don Cherry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
E-Dancer,
The Sound,
Sam Rivers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dead Boys,
Robert Hood,
Qualms,
Avey Tare,
Minor Threat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Leonard Cohen,
Johnny Osbourne,
Index,
The Toasters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.