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 Honduras and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lalo Schifrin to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Davy DMX,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Techniques,
Fatback Band,
Suburban Knight,
Half Japanese,
Scientists,
Scratch Acid,
Scrapy,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Victims,
Frankie Knuckles,
Delon & Dalcan,
Supertramp,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Seeds,
The Monochrome Set,
Grauzone,
The Smoke,
Gabor Szabo,
The Black Dice,
Ultimate Spinach,
Idris Muhammad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joyce Sims,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bush Tetras,
Swans,
Liliput,
One Last Wish,
The Human League,
Matthew Bourne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeru the Damaja,
Intrusion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jacob Miller,
Marmalade,
Grandmaster Flash,
Popol Vuh,
Connie Case,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Doors,
The Birthday Party,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Star Department,
Black Sheep,
Lou Christie,
Curtis Mayfield,
Leonard Cohen,
Vainqueur,
The Blackbyrds,
The New Christs,
L. Decosne,
Ultravox,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.