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 Mozambique and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rekid to the rap 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Dual Sessions,
Essential Logic,
The Associates,
The Moleskins,
Oblivians,
Goldenarms,
T. Rex,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ken Boothe,
China Crisis,
Bob Dylan,
Vainqueur,
Buzzcocks,
Pole,
Oneida,
Hardrive,
Grey Daturas,
Ronan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Anthony Braxton,
The Selecter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-Ray Spex,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lakeside,
Boredoms,
Depeche Mode,
Slick Rick,
Black Sheep,
Newcleus,
Wasted Youth,
EPMD,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sugar Minott,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suburban Knight,
the Normal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Liliput,
Thompson Twins,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Zapp,
Panda Bear,
Deadbeat,
Bill Wells,
Simply Red,
Brass Construction,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Real Kids,
cv313,
Black Bananas,
Average White Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.