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 Solomon Islands and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Royal Trux to the jazz 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Black Bananas,
Al Stewart,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
James White and The Blacks,
The Buckinghams,
World's Most,
Cluster,
Kayak,
Yusef Lateef,
Crime,
Dorothy Ashby,
New Age Steppers,
Erasure,
Derrick May,
Jeff Lynne,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Josef K,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
In Retrospect,
Arthur Verocai,
Gichy Dan,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Womack,
the Human League,
The Human League,
Jerry's Kids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
This Heat,
Ronan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dave Gahan,
Tim Buckley,
Cal Tjader,
Guru Guru,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sight & Sound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tommy Roe,
ABC,
Half Japanese,
The Move,
Scion,
Robert Görl,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Lydon,
MDC,
Metal Thangz,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oneida,
The Doors,
T.S.O.L.,
Pulsallama,
Can,
EPMD,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.