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 Mauritius and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sällskapet,
Popol Vuh,
The J.B.'s,
D'Angelo,
Faraquet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aural Exciters,
Fear,
Eric Copeland,
Severed Heads,
Peter and Kerry,
Jacques Brel,
Ken Boothe,
Mandrill,
Susan Cadogan,
The Electric Prunes,
Arcadia,
Gastr Del Sol,
Judy Mowatt,
Main Source,
Darondo,
T.S.O.L.,
Arthur Verocai,
Jandek,
Hasil Adkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sight & Sound,
Procol Harum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ten City,
Nick Fraelich,
Janne Schatter,
Reuben Wilson,
Ossler,
David McCallum,
Bob Dylan,
Monolake,
Mark Hollis,
Desert Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Jerry's Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Remains,
Royal Trux,
Roxy Music,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sam Rivers,
Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Slackers,
Franke,
Cymande,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Bananas,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.