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 Armenia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes 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 The Fugs to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Sheep,
The Happenings,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pulsallama,
Niagra,
Godley & Creme,
Don Cherry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Newcleus,
Angry Samoans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
These Immortal Souls,
The Barracudas,
Boredoms,
The Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
Vainqueur,
Intrusion,
Skarface,
Dawn Penn,
ABBA,
Hashim,
Procol Harum,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Wells,
Bang On A Can,
the Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Monks,
Metal Thangz,
Blossom Toes,
Darondo,
Sound Behaviour,
Soft Machine,
Gang of Four,
The Five Americans,
Ronan,
Nirvana,
Delta 5,
The Buckinghams,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
Bauhaus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ronnie Foster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Normal,
Sarah Menescal,
Shoche,
Television Personalities,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Moleskins,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.