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 Kenya and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kool Moe Dee to the punk 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Pylon,
Wings,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
T. Rex,
Joe Smooth,
X-102,
Agent Orange,
The Fall,
Y Pants,
Gang Green,
New York Dolls,
Yusef Lateef,
Wolf Eyes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Michelle Simonal,
Dark Day,
Rotary Connection,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
JFA,
Magazine,
Mo-Dettes,
Alphaville,
Pulsallama,
Deadbeat,
Aloha Tigers,
Amon Düül,
Mr. Review,
Colin Newman,
Sugar Minott,
Public Enemy,
The Fire Engines,
Pussy Galore,
Buzzcocks,
The Star Department,
Matthew Bourne,
Johnny Clarke,
Quando Quango,
Television Personalities,
The Index,
the Swans,
Minor Threat,
X-101,
Jacques Brel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Model 500,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott Heron,
Average White Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Whodini,
Pole,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kerrie Biddell,
Albert Ayler,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.