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 Palau and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Prince Buster to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Letta Mbulu,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
The J.B.'s,
the Normal,
Ultravox,
Visage,
Warsaw,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The United States of America,
DNA,
Mars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wire,
Skriet,
Pole,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Derrick May,
A Certain Ratio,
Camouflage,
K-Klass,
New Age Steppers,
Eve St. Jones,
Eurythmics,
Brick,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Hood,
Marmalade,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boredoms,
Talk Talk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Von Mondo,
Jerry's Kids,
the Slits,
Donald Byrd,
Livin' Joy,
Yazoo,
The Wake,
David Axelrod,
Cymande,
Nik Kershaw,
Dark Day,
Gichy Dan,
Morten Harket,
Scan 7,
The Last Poets,
Agent Orange,
EPMD,
Warren Ellis,
The Cramps,
Deakin,
The Mojo Men,
Ralphi Rosario,
Make Up,
Audionom,
Smog,
Howard Jones,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.