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 Ireland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 David Axelrod to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express 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?
Metal Thangz,
Television,
Organ,
The Slackers,
The Wake,
Schoolly D,
Con Funk Shun,
Mr. Review,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Green,
R.M.O.,
the Germs,
The Happenings,
Crispian St. Peters,
Can,
Charles Mingus,
Simply Red,
The Barracudas,
Mantronix,
Cheater Slicks,
The Electric Prunes,
Flash Fearless,
Wally Richardson,
Moebius,
Japan,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiopuhelimet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Skriet,
Fela Kuti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Residents,
Section 25,
Fat Boys,
Camouflage,
the Association,
Brand Nubian,
Jandek,
Model 500,
The Names,
Ronnie Foster,
Country Teasers,
Letta Mbulu,
Joensuu 1685,
David Bowie,
The Index,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Peter and Kerry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nas,
Arcadia,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Cowsills,
Isaac Hayes,
Neu!,
48th St. Collective,
Accadde A,
B.T. Express,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marvin Gaye,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.