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 Tuvalu and from New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Liaisons Dangereuses 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Invisible,
MDC,
Ornette Coleman,
The Slits,
Ituana,
Talk Talk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fall,
The Names,
The Electric Prunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Rufus Thomas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Christie,
the Fania All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jandek,
Carl Craig,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bill Near,
The Monks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Banda Bassotti,
Suicide,
Ultra Naté,
Pere Ubu,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gun Club,
In Retrospect,
Connie Case,
Echospace,
E-Dancer,
Pulsallama,
Delta 5,
Hoover,
Underground Resistance,
Barry Ungar,
The Motions,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Mojo Men,
Parry Music,
Sun City Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Matthew Bourne,
The Happenings,
Cal Tjader,
Yusef Lateef,
Au Pairs,
Scratch Acid,
Make Up,
Liliput,
Pantaleimon,
Nirvana,
Model 500,
48th St. Collective,
The Music Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smoke,
The Slackers,
Neil Young,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.