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 Guatemala and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 U.S. Maple to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Delta 5,
Monks,
Ronan,
Bush Tetras,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Erasure,
Circle Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
Steve Hackett,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Cale,
Talk Talk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Livin' Joy,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Bananas,
Rakim,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Music Machine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Accadde A,
Soulsonic Force,
Graham Central Station,
The Move,
Dawn Penn,
Popol Vuh,
Minnie Riperton,
Aaron Thompson,
Eddi Front,
Eric Dolphy,
Donny Hathaway,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare,
Rotary Connection,
The Kinks,
John Coltrane,
The Cowsills,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Holt,
Swans,
OOIOO,
Theoretical Girls,
Reagan Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Carl Craig,
Sex Pistols,
The Neon Judgement,
The Trojans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Junior Murvin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
DNA,
Soul II Soul,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.