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 Monaco and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Dead Boys to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Rufus Thomas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fortunes,
Bill Wells,
Funkadelic,
JFA,
Eric Dolphy,
Mantronix,
Silicon Teens,
Jimmy McGriff,
Stockholm Monsters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thompson Twins,
Shoche,
The Alarm Clocks,
Parry Music,
Idris Muhammad,
Dark Day,
The Mummies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lower 48,
Tom Boy,
U.S. Maple,
Circle Jerks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang Starr,
KRS-One,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agent Orange,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Junior Murvin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Todd Terry,
Isaac Hayes,
Donny Hathaway,
Qualms,
the Slits,
Yaz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Juan Atkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Patti Smith,
Country Teasers,
Bluetip,
Royal Trux,
Reuben Wilson,
The Offenders,
The Neon Judgement,
Iggy Pop,
The Young Rascals,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler,
Y Pants,
The Gories,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.