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 Maldives and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Amon Düül,
The Stooges,
The Gun Club,
Oneida,
Ponytail,
the Slits,
Panda Bear,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Johnny Clarke,
Patti Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
Aural Exciters,
Roxette,
Boz Scaggs,
Shuggie Otis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sight & Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wally Richardson,
Stetsasonic,
Mad Mike,
Ornette Coleman,
Can,
Fluxion,
The Martian,
X-Ray Spex,
Bob Dylan,
The Tremeloes,
Dual Sessions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Monks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sex Pistols,
Easy Going,
Bill Wells,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Donald Byrd,
Fear,
Peter and Kerry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Velvet Underground,
Iggy Pop,
Chris Corsano,
Gang of Four,
Alice Coltrane,
Gichy Dan,
Brass Construction,
Danielle Patucci,
Adolescents,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monochrome Set,
UT,
Avey Tare,
Royal Trux,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
Stiv Bators,
Hardrive,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.