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 Belize and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Malaria! to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Surgeon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-101,
Soul II Soul,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Metal Thangz,
Essential Logic,
Throbbing Gristle,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Make Up,
Sam Rivers,
David McCallum,
Ronan,
Joyce Sims,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fugs,
Funky Four + One,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Tremeloes,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bootsy Collins,
Lindisfarne,
Harmonia,
Cameo,
The Gladiators,
The Martian,
Flash Fearless,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
DNA,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
Iggy Pop,
Youth Brigade,
The Residents,
The Velvet Underground,
The Motions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roxette,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suicide,
Eve St. Jones,
Mark Hollis,
K-Klass,
Bush Tetras,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Wells,
Khruangbin,
Kerri Chandler,
ABBA,
Don Cherry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Altered Images,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Womack,
Deadbeat,
The Music Machine,
Rakim,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.