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 Nauru and from Bremen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Lou Reed 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Traffic Nightmare,
Don Cherry,
Charles Mingus,
Sex Pistols,
The Barracudas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Toasters,
Ludus,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alice Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
The Buckinghams,
The Slits,
Frankie Knuckles,
Agent Orange,
Robert Görl,
K-Klass,
Fugazi,
Nik Kershaw,
Mr. Review,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pere Ubu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Technova,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Christie,
Brand Nubian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Silicon Teens,
The Standells,
Masters at Work,
Peter & Gordon,
Aloha Tigers,
Cameo,
Rapeman,
The Leaves,
Harmonia,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kas Product,
This Heat,
Faust,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Quantec,
Erykah Badu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Count Five,
Graham Central Station,
Con Funk Shun,
Pagans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cluster,
The Smiths,
Letta Mbulu,
Josef K,
Lightning Bolt,
Alton Ellis,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.