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 Czech Republic and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cal Tjader to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Audionom,
Lightning Bolt,
Royal Trux,
The Velvet Underground,
Cluster,
Spandau Ballet,
Babytalk,
Reuben Wilson,
Sparks,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
The Slits,
Amon Düül II,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Heaven 17,
Agent Orange,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Underground Resistance,
Ponytail,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rakim,
John Cale,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Porter Ricks,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Zeros,
Gabor Szabo,
Grauzone,
The Angels of Light,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joey Negro,
Bluetip,
Arab on Radar,
AZ,
Pagans,
Boredoms,
Graham Central Station,
Ice-T,
John Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
The New Christs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skarface,
The Evens,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Symarip,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Das Ding,
Tres Demented,
the Bar-Kays,
Yaz,
Liliput,
Supertramp,
Ossler,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.