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 Venezuela and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Velvet Underground to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Index,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Malaria!,
Ponytail,
Mo-Dettes,
Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
Reagan Youth,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
Banda Bassotti,
Don Cherry,
Peter and Kerry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eurythmics,
Black Pus,
Dennis Brown,
The Blackbyrds,
Scion,
Skarface,
Mark Hollis,
Von Mondo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sparks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
June of 44,
Leonard Cohen,
Cecil Taylor,
Metal Thangz,
the Association,
Althea and Donna,
Alice Coltrane,
Derrick Morgan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Freddie Wadling,
Wasted Youth,
Faraquet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Todd Terry,
Sandy B,
Television,
Isaac Hayes,
Archie Shepp,
Gabor Szabo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Warsaw,
Crash Course in Science,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Flag,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hardrive,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
UT,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mad Mike,
Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Sex Pistols,
Gregory Isaacs,
Shuggie Otis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.