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 Mexico and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Gang Starr to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Trumans Water,
Quando Quango,
Reuben Wilson,
The Toasters,
X-102,
Nick Fraelich,
KRS-One,
Joe Smooth,
Deepchord,
K-Klass,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rakim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blake Baxter,
Rod Modell,
Unwound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Terrestrial Tones,
New York Dolls,
Index,
Howard Jones,
Funkadelic,
Stiv Bators,
Pharoah Sanders,
Buzzcocks,
Scan 7,
Supertramp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Goldenarms,
New Order,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Connie Case,
Magma,
Interpol,
the Slits,
Sister Nancy,
The Cowsills,
Mars,
The Blackbyrds,
L. Decosne,
Albert Ayler,
Slick Rick,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Public Enemy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Morten Harket,
Stetsasonic,
Altered Images,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gregory Isaacs,
Darondo,
The Neon Judgement,
Joey Negro,
Gang Starr,
Slave,
The Human League,
Drexciya,
Saccharine Trust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Throbbing Gristle,
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.