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 Botswana and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 The Gories 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Intrusion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roxette,
Siglo XX,
Malaria!,
T. Rex,
The New Christs,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dirtbombs,
Trumans Water,
John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Janne Schatter,
Gang of Four,
The Names,
Livin' Joy,
Icehouse,
The Mojo Men,
The Skatalites,
These Immortal Souls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Negative Approach,
The Cramps,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pole,
Magazine,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Electric Prunes,
Index,
Joe Smooth,
Second Layer,
Black Moon,
Monks,
Oneida,
Hashim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Smiths,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joe Finger,
the Normal,
Ten City,
Los Fastidios,
Masters at Work,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Khruangbin,
Japan,
Skaos,
Talk Talk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Loose Ends,
The Fire Engines,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.