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 Colombia and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Music Machine to the techno 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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
The Trojans,
Kenny Larkin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tommy Roe,
Piero Umiliani,
Marine Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
the Association,
Pussy Galore,
The Golliwogs,
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
John Cale,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monks,
Stiv Bators,
Traffic Nightmare,
KRS-One,
Ossler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
K-Klass,
Spoonie Gee,
Public Image Ltd.,
Circle Jerks,
The Fugs,
PIL,
Isaac Hayes,
Tom Boy,
Scan 7,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
Cal Tjader,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jacob Miller,
The Slackers,
F. McDonald,
Cybotron,
Country Teasers,
Soft Machine,
Erasure,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rosa Yemen,
Surgeon,
Brothers Johnson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grey Daturas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yellowson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Radiohead,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marc Almond,
Smog,
Delon & Dalcan,
Television,
Bronski Beat,
Guru Guru,
Funky Four + One,
Essential Logic,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.