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 Libya and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Fluxion to the grunge 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Nirvana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Los Fastidios,
Bush Tetras,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
Yazoo,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monks,
Black Flag,
The Associates,
Lou Christie,
Toni Rubio,
The Blackbyrds,
The Smoke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eli Mardock,
Lungfish,
Pierre Henry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Urselle,
Adolescents,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
Alice Coltrane,
the Germs,
Amazonics,
Ronan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brand Nubian,
Kerrie Biddell,
Franke,
Symarip,
Sun Ra,
Fatback Band,
Aswad,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Seeds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
JFA,
Junior Murvin,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Simply Red,
The Raincoats,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mars,
Pantaleimon,
U.S. Maple,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Names,
Man Eating Sloth,
Accadde A,
Funky Four + One,
The Cure,
Oneida,
Bootsy Collins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
cv313,
Alphaville,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.