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 Ivory Coast and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Theoretical Girls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Jerry's Kids,
Sparks,
The New Christs,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Standells,
Dead Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
D'Angelo,
The Young Rascals,
Make Up,
Black Pus,
Man Parrish,
The Count Five,
T. Rex,
The Happenings,
The Flesh Eaters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cheater Slicks,
Deakin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nirvana,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cure,
Saccharine Trust,
The Names,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Duran Duran,
Procol Harum,
Crooked Eye,
Aaron Thompson,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Terry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Junior Murvin,
Young Marble Giants,
A Certain Ratio,
Jacob Miller,
Fear,
The Mojo Men,
F. McDonald,
Arthur Verocai,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rakim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Sherman,
Amon Düül II,
Maurizio,
Marvin Gaye,
Janne Schatter,
R.M.O.,
the Association,
Little Man,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Outsiders,
Sällskapet,
Stereo Dub,
The Victims,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.