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 Slovenia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eric B and Rakim 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Theoretical Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
The Black Dice,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cure,
Swans,
Darondo,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skarface,
Flipper,
Barry Ungar,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Excepter,
Sam Rivers,
Chrome,
The Durutti Column,
Nils Olav,
Aloha Tigers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scrapy,
Moebius,
Arthur Verocai,
The Angels of Light,
Todd Rundgren,
Erykah Badu,
Jeff Mills,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cowsills,
Magma,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Vogues,
Chris & Cosey,
Sun City Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Gichy Dan,
The Beau Brummels,
Sound Behaviour,
The Invisible,
Isaac Hayes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deepchord,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Misunderstood,
Suicide,
Fluxion,
Audionom,
Mo-Dettes,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.