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 San Marino and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 kango's stein massive to the dance 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Terry Callier,
Excepter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Mission of Burma,
Flipper,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cowsills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Derrick May,
Donald Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Country Teasers,
John Holt,
Todd Terry,
Dave Gahan,
ABC,
Echospace,
New Order,
Reagan Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
Y Pants,
Young Marble Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Maurizio,
U.S. Maple,
Monolake,
John Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Godley & Creme,
Cheater Slicks,
Jacob Miller,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Womack,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The New Christs,
Black Flag,
Symarip,
Peter & Gordon,
Rakim,
The Standells,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Japan,
Skarface,
Neil Young,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Bananas,
Alphaville,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Birthday Party,
Peter and Kerry,
Lucky Dragons,
D'Angelo,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.