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 Djibouti and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Quantec,
The Move,
Jandek,
The Misunderstood,
Bizarre Inc.,
Depeche Mode,
T. Rex,
Nico,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chris & Cosey,
John Cale,
Spoonie Gee,
Arab on Radar,
Urselle,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Association,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sugar Minott,
A Certain Ratio,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Flipper,
Quando Quango,
Deadbeat,
Bootsy Collins,
Symarip,
The Slits,
H. Thieme,
Panda Bear,
The Kinks,
Neil Young,
The Pretty Things,
Anakelly,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
OOIOO,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slackers,
Prince Buster,
Derrick May,
Alton Ellis,
Hoover,
Eli Mardock,
Gang Starr,
Freddie Wadling,
Babytalk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cameo,
The Tremeloes,
The Cowsills,
Second Layer,
The Raincoats,
The Gap Band,
Eurythmics,
Leonard Cohen,
Aural Exciters,
the Human League,
The Invisible,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.