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 Ecuador and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Cybotron to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida 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?
Porter Ricks,
Dark Day,
Supertramp,
Circle Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
Amazonics,
Howard Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
the Slits,
The New Christs,
The Litter,
Schoolly D,
Desert Stars,
Little Man,
Fela Kuti,
Fatback Band,
The Wake,
Juan Atkins,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Move,
Faraquet,
Roxy Music,
Mandrill,
Henry Cow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Liliput,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Gun Club,
Colin Newman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Trumans Water,
Archie Shepp,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Josef K,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sister Nancy,
10cc,
The Birthday Party,
Heaven 17,
Jacob Miller,
Motorama,
The Selecter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Anakelly,
Lyres,
Fugazi,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gladiators,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantytec,
Bluetip,
The Pretty Things,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Parry Music,
ABC,
Loose Ends,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Charles Mingus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Warsaw,
Bobby Sherman,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.