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 Ivory Coast and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fania All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Kurtis Blow,
Echospace,
Cameo,
Mark Hollis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Animal Collective,
David McCallum,
Roxy Music,
Inner City,
the Fania All-Stars,
Main Source,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed,
John Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
Whodini,
June Days,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soft Cell,
The Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Pierre Henry,
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Wyatt,
Warren Ellis,
Sun Ra,
The Names,
The Flesh Eaters,
Make Up,
Archie Shepp,
The Blackbyrds,
Barry Ungar,
Jeff Lynne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Absolute Body Control,
Colin Newman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cluster,
Drexciya,
Crime,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q65,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dirtbombs,
Reuben Wilson,
Delta 5,
The Fall,
Panda Bear,
Quadrant,
Johnny Clarke,
Ituana,
The Doors,
Black Pus,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.