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 Kazakhstan and from New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Unwound to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tubeway Army,
AZ,
kango's stein massive,
Zero Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Black Moon,
Franke,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Golliwogs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter & Gordon,
The Real Kids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hoover,
Joe Smooth,
Procol Harum,
Yellowson,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Pretty Things,
The Music Machine,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roxette,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Subhumans,
Sandy B,
Funky Four + One,
Man Eating Sloth,
World's Most,
The Selecter,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suburban Knight,
The Smoke,
Metal Thangz,
Agent Orange,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun City Girls,
Vainqueur,
Lindisfarne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ken Boothe,
E-Dancer,
Das Ding,
Wire,
Brand Nubian,
ABC,
Popol Vuh,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barclay James Harvest,
Steve Hackett,
The Raincoats,
Simply Red,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.