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 Argentina and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sight & Sound to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gladiators,
Roxette,
ABC,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grandmaster Flash,
Leonard Cohen,
Bill Wells,
Graham Central Station,
Don Cherry,
Chris & Cosey,
Sun City Girls,
Guru Guru,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Starr,
Wire,
X-102,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fugazi,
Anakelly,
John Foxx,
The Knickerbockers,
Supertramp,
Shoche,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cameo,
The Five Americans,
Hoover,
Skriet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
This Heat,
Au Pairs,
Derrick Morgan,
The Motions,
Moby Grape,
Parry Music,
Heaven 17,
Theoretical Girls,
Amon Düül,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Grass Roots,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cure,
The Raincoats,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Audionom,
Tim Buckley,
Bronski Beat,
Fat Boys,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.