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 Russia and from New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Womack,
The Move,
MDC,
Reuben Wilson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry's Kids,
The Velvet Underground,
Eli Mardock,
LL Cool J,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dual Sessions,
the Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
Heaven 17,
The Young Rascals,
Shoche,
Grauzone,
Depeche Mode,
The Moleskins,
The Names,
Dave Gahan,
The Electric Prunes,
Moebius,
the Soft Cell,
The Associates,
The J.B.'s,
Crispy Ambulance,
Whodini,
The American Breed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flipper,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun Ra,
Junior Murvin,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monochrome Set,
Pagans,
John Coltrane,
Aaron Thompson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Starr,
Intrusion,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smoke,
Max Romeo,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Mars,
Subhumans,
The Misunderstood,
JFA,
Pantytec,
The Pretty Things,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Stooges,
Sister Nancy,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.