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 New Zealand and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Infiniti to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Franke,
Mo-Dettes,
Nirvana,
Tears for Fears,
Shoche,
Alison Limerick,
Tomorrow,
Ludus,
Drexciya,
Qualms,
Black Bananas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Reagan Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sandy B,
Dual Sessions,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sam Rivers,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Hill,
Black Moon,
The Saints,
Radio Birdman,
The Remains,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Spandau Ballet,
China Crisis,
Todd Terry,
World's Most,
The Victims,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
K-Klass,
Black Flag,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oneida,
Colin Newman,
Gang Gang Dance,
One Last Wish,
The Knickerbockers,
Bush Tetras,
Mantronix,
Shuggie Otis,
Wolf Eyes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Iggy Pop,
Silicon Teens,
OOIOO,
Ultra Naté,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.