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 Korea South and from London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Grandmaster Flash to the punk 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
T. Rex,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalann,
Howard Jones,
Ice-T,
Robert Görl,
Cybotron,
Tommy Roe,
Intrusion,
Robert Hood,
Fat Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barry Ungar,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
The Motions,
Index,
Livin' Joy,
The Cure,
Ronnie Foster,
Thee Headcoats,
Fad Gadget,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Moon,
Japan,
MDC,
Josef K,
Max Romeo,
The Fuzztones,
Electric Prunes,
Franke,
The Blackbyrds,
Unwound,
Peter and Kerry,
Scott Walker,
Echospace,
Minny Pops,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Von Mondo,
The Mummies,
John Holt,
Black Pus,
UT,
Sister Nancy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fluxion,
Flash Fearless,
Derrick Morgan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Leonard Cohen,
Motorama,
Junior Murvin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
X-101,
Eddi Front,
Bluetip,
Ituana,
Aural Exciters,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.