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 Romania and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mr. Review to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Howard Jones,
The Moleskins,
Eli Mardock,
The Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Model 500,
Qualms,
Boz Scaggs,
Television Personalities,
Skriet,
Circle Jerks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grey Daturas,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Suburban Knight,
The Standells,
John Coltrane,
June of 44,
Wire,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Bananas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Certain Ratio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Byrd,
Brass Construction,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Faust,
Ludus,
DJ Sneak,
Nik Kershaw,
Sister Nancy,
Brick,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gap Band,
Excepter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rekid,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Victims,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skarface,
Pylon,
Pierre Henry,
The Gladiators,
Ronnie Foster,
Terry Callier,
Fad Gadget,
John Foxx,
Robert Hood,
Scan 7,
Scratch Acid,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Cure,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.