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 Andorra and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
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 marimba 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 Sister Nancy 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
Tim Buckley,
Massinfluence,
Sugar Minott,
Popol Vuh,
Quadrant,
Erasure,
Lower 48,
H. Thieme,
Parry Music,
Barrington Levy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Archie Shepp,
Ice-T,
Mo-Dettes,
FM Einheit,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
Josef K,
Bad Manners,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lungfish,
This Heat,
Tomorrow,
Babytalk,
The Raincoats,
Sixth Finger,
Altered Images,
Jeff Mills,
June of 44,
Minnie Riperton,
Andrew Hill,
The Divine Comedy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Robert Görl,
Sam Rivers,
Mark Hollis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Inner City,
Goldenarms,
Groovy Waters,
Hashim,
Eric Copeland,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
The Real Kids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Count Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Sandy B,
Barry Ungar,
Blancmange,
Kenny Larkin,
David McCallum,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
The Black Dice,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.