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 Saudi Arabia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tim Buckley to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Oneida,
Joy Division,
Infiniti,
10cc,
The Last Poets,
Public Enemy,
Warren Ellis,
World's Most,
Don Cherry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Spandau Ballet,
Carl Craig,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Faraquet,
Motorama,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wings,
Robert Hood,
Blancmange,
The Barracudas,
The Blues Magoos,
June Days,
Goldenarms,
Severed Heads,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Albert Ayler,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Bourne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Royal Trux,
Lucky Dragons,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Knickerbockers,
The Five Americans,
The Birthday Party,
Ornette Coleman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
New Age Steppers,
Sex Pistols,
CMW,
Agent Orange,
the Human League,
Maleditus Sound,
John Coltrane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Half Japanese,
Aloha Tigers,
Massinfluence,
Dark Day,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The United States of America,
DJ Style,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Flag,
Clear Light,
China Crisis,
Mars,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.