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 Montenegro and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the funk 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Sun City Girls,
Echospace,
Morten Harket,
Crispian St. Peters,
Toni Rubio,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rekid,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Television Personalities,
The Kinks,
X-Ray Spex,
Pagans,
Gang Starr,
Isaac Hayes,
Nick Fraelich,
OOIOO,
Skarface,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
T.S.O.L.,
Moebius,
The Stooges,
Todd Rundgren,
Nas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Leaves,
Johnny Clarke,
Archie Shepp,
Deakin,
Adolescents,
Iggy Pop,
Agent Orange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Laurel Aitken,
Radiohead,
The Black Dice,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Y Pants,
The Mojo Men,
Siglo XX,
L. Decosne,
X-101,
The Gap Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Janne Schatter,
Hoover,
The Walker Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
Lindisfarne,
the Human League,
The Young Rascals,
Gabor Szabo,
Eurythmics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shuggie Otis,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.