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 Papua New Guinea and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 The Tremeloes to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
Dennis Brown,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Names,
Althea and Donna,
Sandy B,
Yellowson,
Grauzone,
Arab on Radar,
Tomorrow,
Ponytail,
The Wake,
The Trojans,
FM Einheit,
Desert Stars,
Bauhaus,
A Certain Ratio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skriet,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Fraelich,
Supertramp,
The Fugs,
Radio Birdman,
Alphaville,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eurythmics,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
Mars,
The Slits,
Severed Heads,
Minutemen,
OOIOO,
Unrelated Segments,
Stockholm Monsters,
Laurel Aitken,
Prince Buster,
Wings,
Joe Smooth,
Suicide,
Mo-Dettes,
Crime,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scrapy,
The Happenings,
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Television Personalities,
Dark Day,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
X-101,
The Dirtbombs,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
Livin' Joy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.