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 Equatorial Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 The Searchers to the rap 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
The Doors,
Warsaw,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The New Christs,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fugs,
The Victims,
Siglo XX,
Graham Central Station,
the Association,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eddi Front,
June of 44,
Freddie Wadling,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ossler,
Charles Mingus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Laurel Aitken,
Symarip,
Wire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slick Rick,
Essential Logic,
Blancmange,
The Grass Roots,
The Last Poets,
Procol Harum,
Livin' Joy,
Aswad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The United States of America,
Davy DMX,
Clear Light,
Harmonia,
Nick Fraelich,
Boredoms,
the Bar-Kays,
Crime,
Motorama,
Jawbox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kaleidoscope,
Tim Buckley,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moby Grape,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Curtis Mayfield,
CMW,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
EPMD,
The Happenings,
F. McDonald,
Mandrill,
Matthew Halsall,
Roy Ayers,
Drive Like Jehu,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.