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 Vietnam and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Freddie Wadling 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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
David Bowie,
Malaria!,
The Human League,
Colin Newman,
Sparks,
K-Klass,
The Fire Engines,
Sällskapet,
The Cure,
DJ Sneak,
Technova,
Dawn Penn,
Tres Demented,
Pylon,
The Blues Magoos,
Camouflage,
Chris & Cosey,
Slave,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Walker Brothers,
Japan,
Nas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gladiators,
Flipper,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yazoo,
The Dirtbombs,
Todd Terry,
Tommy Roe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
T.S.O.L.,
Juan Atkins,
U.S. Maple,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anakelly,
Ohio Players,
The Doors,
The J.B.'s,
Essential Logic,
Eddi Front,
Unwound,
Negative Approach,
Lightning Bolt,
Alison Limerick,
The Red Krayola,
Eric Dolphy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dorothy Ashby,
Underground Resistance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joe Finger,
Main Source,
Crime,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rotary Connection,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radio Birdman,
Hasil Adkins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radiohead,
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.