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 Tajikistan and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eurythmics,
L. Decosne,
Alphaville,
The Beau Brummels,
Bush Tetras,
Bill Near,
Terry Callier,
Yazoo,
Stiv Bators,
The Move,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slackers,
Andrew Hill,
John Cale,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Television,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Neil Young,
Royal Trux,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Finger,
The Walker Brothers,
Barbara Tucker,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
the Normal,
The United States of America,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unwound,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Sheep,
Bronski Beat,
Leonard Cohen,
Brick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultravox,
Von Mondo,
Negative Approach,
Cymande,
Minutemen,
Severed Heads,
Morten Harket,
Pantytec,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Technova,
Bad Manners,
The Fire Engines,
The Fugs,
H. Thieme,
Quando Quango,
Dennis Brown,
The Leaves,
Camouflage,
KRS-One,
Sparks,
Jeff Mills,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.