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 Guatemala and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 Crash Course in Science to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suburban Knight,
Mr. Review,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Fluxion,
Mars,
Masters at Work,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barry Ungar,
The Music Machine,
The Shadows of Knight,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boredoms,
Barrington Levy,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
Television,
The Evens,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eve St. Jones,
Wally Richardson,
Anakelly,
The Associates,
The Neon Judgement,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
Cluster,
Duran Duran,
Maleditus Sound,
Tom Boy,
the Normal,
The Zeros,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Smooth,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Q65,
Pere Ubu,
Tommy Roe,
Technova,
Gang Green,
John Coltrane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mission of Burma,
cv313,
Underground Resistance,
The Busters,
Darondo,
Faust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
ABBA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dennis Brown,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Marine Girls,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.