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 France and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wally Richardson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Kayak,
Supertramp,
Severed Heads,
Cymande,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Pretty Things,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Radiohead,
The Remains,
Duran Duran,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lakeside,
Harmonia,
Scrapy,
Lightning Bolt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Coltrane,
Rosa Yemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Terry Callier,
Donald Byrd,
the Bar-Kays,
June Days,
The Offenders,
Sam Rivers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Los Fastidios,
Maleditus Sound,
Quadrant,
Unrelated Segments,
Lindisfarne,
Erasure,
Tears for Fears,
Black Pus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pantytec,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sister Nancy,
Soft Cell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Axelrod,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bronski Beat,
Albert Ayler,
Lungfish,
Morten Harket,
cv313,
The Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June of 44,
Henry Cow,
Ronnie Foster,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.