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 United States and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Severed Heads to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Basic Channel,
Morten Harket,
Section 25,
E-Dancer,
John Holt,
Adolescents,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
World's Most,
The Standells,
Rod Modell,
Deakin,
the Swans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dead C,
Eden Ahbez,
The Music Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quantec,
Sonic Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Hood,
Barry Ungar,
Urselle,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Sherman,
Wasted Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
The Leaves,
Faraquet,
EPMD,
Suburban Knight,
Deadbeat,
Peter and Kerry,
China Crisis,
Anthony Braxton,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Germs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Sonics,
Tomorrow,
Robert Wyatt,
The Black Dice,
Neil Young,
Essential Logic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Boredoms,
Gong,
Fela Kuti,
Black Moon,
Warren Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Agitation Free,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.