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 Ireland and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Judy Mowatt to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Prince Buster,
Au Pairs,
Infiniti,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nils Olav,
Pole,
Royal Trux,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Near,
Scan 7,
Black Flag,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Angry Samoans,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slick Rick,
10cc,
Scratch Acid,
Tommy Roe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Todd Rundgren,
Josef K,
8 Eyed Spy,
Excepter,
Glambeats Corp.,
cv313,
Visage,
Gichy Dan,
Malaria!,
Television,
Traffic Nightmare,
Smog,
Bluetip,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Finger,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Toni Rubio,
CMW,
Moss Icon,
The Monks,
The Smiths,
Kayak,
F. McDonald,
The United States of America,
Brass Construction,
Glenn Branca,
Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
Television Personalities,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Germs,
Lyres,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.