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 Macedonia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 CMW to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Freddie Wadling,
Crooked Eye,
Scott Walker,
The Trojans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gun Club,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Cale,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ludus,
Bush Tetras,
Roxy Music,
Livin' Joy,
Minny Pops,
Rakim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Khruangbin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dead Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Radiohead,
Erykah Badu,
Sight & Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Little Man,
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mars,
Howard Jones,
Q65,
Rapeman,
Goldenarms,
Fear,
Moby Grape,
The Fire Engines,
The Grass Roots,
Ronnie Foster,
Angry Samoans,
the Bar-Kays,
Skaos,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scion,
Ultravox,
Marvin Gaye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rod Modell,
Newcleus,
Isaac Hayes,
The Busters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
World's Most,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eve St. Jones,
The Skatalites,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.