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 Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Johnny Clarke to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
Circle Jerks,
Max Romeo,
X-101,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pere Ubu,
Magazine,
FM Einheit,
U.S. Maple,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Dawn Penn,
Wolf Eyes,
The Dirtbombs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Roger Hodgson,
Marvin Gaye,
Au Pairs,
Delta 5,
Al Stewart,
Bootsy Collins,
Drexciya,
Lindisfarne,
Visage,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang of Four,
The Raincoats,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Red Krayola,
The Young Rascals,
Danielle Patucci,
Skriet,
The J.B.'s,
Scratch Acid,
Depeche Mode,
Marmalade,
Los Fastidios,
Newcleus,
Leonard Cohen,
Goldenarms,
Kayak,
Yusef Lateef,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thompson Twins,
Essential Logic,
E-Dancer,
Lightning Bolt,
Siglo XX,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roxette,
Eli Mardock,
EPMD,
Basic Channel,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
L. Decosne,
Black Bananas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mars,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.