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 Kazakhstan and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Deepchord to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Hot Snakes,
Gang of Four,
Junior Murvin,
Mr. Review,
Interpol,
Godley & Creme,
ABC,
Black Sheep,
Minor Threat,
Prince Buster,
Jerry's Kids,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bob Dylan,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott Heron,
Model 500,
The Five Americans,
CMW,
Carl Craig,
the Human League,
Bobby Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Supertramp,
Kurtis Blow,
Peter & Gordon,
The Neon Judgement,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Danielle Patucci,
Camouflage,
Dave Gahan,
Erasure,
Niagra,
The Slackers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Young Rascals,
The Blackbyrds,
Suburban Knight,
The Red Krayola,
Eve St. Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Fluxion,
Vainqueur,
Accadde A,
Kenny Larkin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Happenings,
The Birthday Party,
Sun City Girls,
Porter Ricks,
The Doors,
Crispian St. Peters,
Matthew Halsall,
Surgeon,
Juan Atkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Urselle,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.