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 Guinea-Bissau 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Grandmaster Flash to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Goldenarms,
Neil Young,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aswad,
The Smoke,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Severed Heads,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grey Daturas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Khruangbin,
Negative Approach,
Chris Corsano,
Pierre Henry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Darondo,
The Durutti Column,
The Blues Magoos,
Cymande,
John Holt,
Clear Light,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neu!,
Hardrive,
Underground Resistance,
Alice Coltrane,
Todd Rundgren,
The Fugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
FM Einheit,
Lakeside,
Newcleus,
Country Teasers,
The Victims,
Porter Ricks,
Nas,
Procol Harum,
Kas Product,
Smog,
Lyres,
Warsaw,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
Marine Girls,
B.T. Express,
Barry Ungar,
Kurtis Blow,
Donald Byrd,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jacques Brel,
The Fuzztones,
Joyce Sims,
Alison Limerick,
Agitation Free,
Man Parrish,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.