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 United States and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Charles Mingus to the electroclash 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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
China Crisis,
The Remains,
Howard Jones,
Procol Harum,
The Monks,
Fela Kuti,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Qualms,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jesper Dahlback,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Los Fastidios,
The American Breed,
Maurizio,
Jacob Miller,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Davy DMX,
Johnny Clarke,
Wally Richardson,
Barbara Tucker,
Alphaville,
Q65,
Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Subhumans,
Junior Murvin,
B.T. Express,
Crime,
Eric Copeland,
Kayak,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Saccharine Trust,
Wire,
Tim Buckley,
Angry Samoans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deadbeat,
The Sonics,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chris & Cosey,
Wolf Eyes,
Nas,
Magazine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jacques Brel,
Malaria!,
Porter Ricks,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.