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 South Sudan and from Calgary.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Litter to the electroclash 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
The Electric Prunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang Starr,
The Dave Clark Five,
June Days,
Scott Walker,
Boredoms,
Robert Görl,
Icehouse,
48th St. Collective,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
EPMD,
Funkadelic,
John Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terry Callier,
Smog,
X-102,
Minor Threat,
Charles Mingus,
Nils Olav,
Moss Icon,
Clear Light,
Sam Rivers,
James White and The Blacks,
Soft Cell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stiv Bators,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Sherman,
Anakelly,
Fluxion,
Adolescents,
The Moleskins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gregory Isaacs,
Thee Headcoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yaz,
the Human League,
Qualms,
The Angels of Light,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Simply Red,
Section 25,
Public Enemy,
Faraquet,
Gabor Szabo,
the Sonics,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fugs,
The Index,
The Five Americans,
Newcleus,
The Buckinghams,
Pere Ubu,
Maurizio,
Severed Heads,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.