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 Indonesia and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Desert Stars to the crunk 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Black Sheep,
The Human League,
Rapeman,
The Golliwogs,
Nils Olav,
Monks,
Oneida,
Surgeon,
Bauhaus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Wake,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Quando Quango,
Angry Samoans,
The Evens,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Invisible,
The Monochrome Set,
Boredoms,
Lungfish,
Todd Terry,
Oblivians,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Audionom,
Rekid,
DNA,
Boz Scaggs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
AZ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Hill,
Amon Düül II,
The Flesh Eaters,
FM Einheit,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Starr,
Von Mondo,
Minor Threat,
Robert Wyatt,
Archie Shepp,
Aural Exciters,
The Misunderstood,
A Certain Ratio,
Alison Limerick,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Tremeloes,
Roger Hodgson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stetsasonic,
Shoche,
Ituana,
Stiv Bators,
The Litter,
Junior Murvin,
The Techniques,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.