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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Busters to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yazoo,
Isaac Hayes,
Pere Ubu,
Leonard Cohen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Enemy,
Laurel Aitken,
This Heat,
Fugazi,
Flamin' Groovies,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Searchers,
Lou Christie,
D'Angelo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Bar-Kays,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
Skaos,
Sonic Youth,
Jandek,
Oblivians,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
Moss Icon,
Charles Mingus,
Deepchord,
Brick,
David Bowie,
Sarah Menescal,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dawn Penn,
Shuggie Otis,
Cecil Taylor,
B.T. Express,
Brothers Johnson,
Henry Cow,
Davy DMX,
The Durutti Column,
Sun Ra,
Ossler,
Television Personalities,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Raincoats,
Brass Construction,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers,
Underground Resistance,
Lalo Schifrin,
Spandau Ballet,
The Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.