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 Madagascar and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Man Eating Sloth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
E-Dancer,
Agent Orange,
LL Cool J,
DNA,
The Zeros,
Scrapy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fifty Foot Hose,
D'Angelo,
Joey Negro,
Dorothy Ashby,
kango's stein massive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Womack,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marmalade,
The Music Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-Ray Spex,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hashim,
Neil Young,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Loose Ends,
Moebius,
Susan Cadogan,
The Moody Blues,
Stiv Bators,
Bronski Beat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lightning Bolt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jacob Miller,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Normal,
Black Moon,
Kas Product,
Von Mondo,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultimate Spinach,
Easy Going,
Minor Threat,
Inner City,
the Swans,
The Slackers,
Panda Bear,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sam Rivers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Masters at Work,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joe Finger,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mantronix,
The Real Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
Freddie Wadling,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.