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 Turkey and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 cv313 to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Mark Hollis,
Terry Callier,
Don Cherry,
The Birthday Party,
Boz Scaggs,
Arab on Radar,
Rod Modell,
Swans,
Cameo,
Soul II Soul,
Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
Max Romeo,
Mission of Burma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slackers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Intrusion,
The Zeros,
Jesper Dahlback,
Davy DMX,
the Soft Cell,
Technova,
48th St. Collective,
Spoonie Gee,
Joe Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brothers Johnson,
K-Klass,
Bad Manners,
Scratch Acid,
The Five Americans,
Dual Sessions,
Pagans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alphaville,
New York Dolls,
Wire,
Nik Kershaw,
Dead Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Neu!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gories,
Robert Wyatt,
The Slits,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fortunes,
Television,
Ultimate Spinach,
New Age Steppers,
Maleditus Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Outsiders,
Wally Richardson,
Inner City,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.