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 Luxembourg and from Woodstock.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Bill Near to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Y Pants,
FM Einheit,
Severed Heads,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Khruangbin,
Blake Baxter,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Babytalk,
Zapp,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Albert Ayler,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
Joyce Sims,
Grandmaster Flash,
Icehouse,
Sixth Finger,
Faraquet,
Byron Stingily,
KRS-One,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
LL Cool J,
The Wake,
Sällskapet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fat Boys,
Graham Central Station,
The Toasters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kas Product,
Soul II Soul,
T.S.O.L.,
B.T. Express,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Angry Samoans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cowsills,
Harry Pussy,
The Pretty Things,
OOIOO,
Das Ding,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Schoolly D,
John Holt,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Womack,
Parry Music,
Lindisfarne,
The Slackers,
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jawbox,
The Dead C,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.