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 Manila.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Boogie Down Productions to the crunk 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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Funkadelic,
Hot Snakes,
This Heat,
The Slackers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pulsallama,
Sonny Sharrock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Offenders,
One Last Wish,
DNA,
cv313,
Masters at Work,
AZ,
Bobby Womack,
Whodini,
Lungfish,
Avey Tare,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deakin,
The Blues Magoos,
Zero Boys,
Panda Bear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Certain Ratio,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eden Ahbez,
Y Pants,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Buzzcocks,
Lightning Bolt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mandrill,
Suburban Knight,
Minny Pops,
Erykah Badu,
Los Fastidios,
Crash Course in Science,
Cluster,
the Association,
Nas,
Gang Starr,
Moebius,
Jeru the Damaja,
Underground Resistance,
Scrapy,
Andrew Hill,
Organ,
Talk Talk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
48th St. Collective,
The Fugs,
Juan Atkins,
Symarip,
the Germs,
Scion,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lower 48,
The Golliwogs,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.