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 Liberia and from Johannesburg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
Warren Ellis,
ABBA,
This Heat,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Starr,
Glenn Branca,
Big Daddy Kane,
T.S.O.L.,
The Count Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cowsills,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slits,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Al Stewart,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jeff Lynne,
Television,
Average White Band,
The Gories,
Crooked Eye,
Sun City Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Gabor Szabo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sex Pistols,
Inner City,
Kayak,
The Velvet Underground,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rites of Spring,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The American Breed,
Qualms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Faust,
Mandrill,
Radio Birdman,
Blancmange,
DJ Sneak,
The Cure,
The Gun Club,
Matthew Halsall,
Mars,
Letta Mbulu,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits,
Lungfish,
Tim Buckley,
Chris & Cosey,
Jacques Brel,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronan,
Masters at Work,
Stereo Dub,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.