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 Egypt and from Mumbai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Index to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cecil Taylor,
Trumans Water,
Pylon,
The Cramps,
Schoolly D,
The Sonics,
Alton Ellis,
Dawn Penn,
The Zeros,
Eurythmics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Durutti Column,
T.S.O.L.,
Roxette,
Dark Day,
Agent Orange,
Sparks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Connie Case,
The Move,
Parry Music,
Sandy B,
The Blackbyrds,
Toni Rubio,
Funky Four + One,
Don Cherry,
Minny Pops,
Massinfluence,
Spoonie Gee,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brass Construction,
Bush Tetras,
the Soft Cell,
AZ,
Flash Fearless,
Gastr Del Sol,
Al Stewart,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep,
Aural Exciters,
Supertramp,
Jacques Brel,
Cal Tjader,
Rekid,
Thompson Twins,
Sixth Finger,
Dave Gahan,
Maleditus Sound,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül,
Theoretical Girls,
Magma,
Porter Ricks,
Sun City Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Desert Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vainqueur,
Gang Green,
Robert Wyatt,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.