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 Bahamas and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Faraquet to the funk 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
U.S. Maple,
Johnny Clarke,
Circle Jerks,
David Bowie,
The Monochrome Set,
Make Up,
Minutemen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jandek,
Kerri Chandler,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
Malaria!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scan 7,
The American Breed,
Mantronix,
Amazonics,
The Motions,
The Durutti Column,
Smog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deakin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marmalade,
Yazoo,
Jerry's Kids,
The New Christs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Count Five,
Sonic Youth,
Eurythmics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stetsasonic,
Magma,
Boredoms,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Popol Vuh,
Peter and Kerry,
Soul II Soul,
Severed Heads,
Freddie Wadling,
Infiniti,
Marcia Griffiths,
Unrelated Segments,
Joy Division,
Qualms,
Marc Almond,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wire,
The J.B.'s,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eden Ahbez,
Flipper,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.