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 Egypt and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 X-101 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
Joey Negro,
Eddi Front,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
The Real Kids,
The Cramps,
Parry Music,
Pylon,
Agent Orange,
Accadde A,
The Stooges,
Lalo Schifrin,
Boz Scaggs,
MDC,
Gastr Del Sol,
X-101,
Spandau Ballet,
Simply Red,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alphaville,
China Crisis,
The Dirtbombs,
Ponytail,
The Star Department,
James White and The Blacks,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalann,
FM Einheit,
Jesper Dahlback,
Severed Heads,
Eurythmics,
Altered Images,
DJ Style,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Red Krayola,
Make Up,
Cymande,
Avey Tare,
The Raincoats,
Fatback Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Gichy Dan,
Gabor Szabo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Danielle Patucci,
Tim Buckley,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alison Limerick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Prunes,
The Busters,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Amazonics,
Lungfish,
Bobby Womack,
Yaz,
T. Rex,
One Last Wish,
Black Moon,
Maurizio,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.