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 Dominican Republic and from Toronto.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Harmonia to the dance 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Jeru the Damaja,
Young Marble Giants,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brass Construction,
Ultravox,
Mr. Review,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Moody Blues,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
Brand Nubian,
Deepchord,
Davy DMX,
Accadde A,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moebius,
CMW,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dawn Penn,
Fat Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
Flipper,
The Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Five Americans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Golliwogs,
the Germs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Wells,
R.M.O.,
Yellowson,
Nick Fraelich,
Boz Scaggs,
John Cale,
Iggy Pop,
Al Stewart,
Joyce Sims,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Byron Stingily,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Normal,
Popol Vuh,
The Fall,
Sarah Menescal,
Todd Rundgren,
Metal Thangz,
New Age Steppers,
Moby Grape,
Dark Day,
The Happenings,
Letta Mbulu,
Joensuu 1685,
The Velvet Underground,
Funkadelic,
Sam Rivers,
Parry Music,
Organ,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.