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 Vietnam and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Von Mondo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Schoolly D,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Selecter,
Hardrive,
The Sonics,
Severed Heads,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Patti Smith,
Jesper Dahlback,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Al Stewart,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Names,
Magma,
The Electric Prunes,
Alton Ellis,
The Trojans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Yellowson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q65,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wasted Youth,
Sandy B,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gregory Isaacs,
Spandau Ballet,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül,
48th St. Collective,
Radiohead,
Althea and Donna,
Janne Schatter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
James White and The Blacks,
Sam Rivers,
Ice-T,
Eddi Front,
Flash Fearless,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Angry Samoans,
The Skatalites,
Grey Daturas,
John Holt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lucky Dragons,
Wings,
Ludus,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Marc Almond,
Khruangbin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Swans,
The Happenings,
A Certain Ratio,
Juan Atkins,
John Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Danielle Patucci,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.