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 Tajikistan and from London.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Avey Tare to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Spandau Ballet,
The Names,
Tommy Roe,
Toni Rubio,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ituana,
The Associates,
Brothers Johnson,
Pylon,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Sherman,
Neu!,
Carl Craig,
June of 44,
Radio Birdman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Johnny Clarke,
John Lydon,
Tom Boy,
Wasted Youth,
Kas Product,
Motorama,
Soul II Soul,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ronan,
PIL,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Womack,
Smog,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Monolake,
Peter & Gordon,
Gong,
Ice-T,
T. Rex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ossler,
Oblivians,
The Fire Engines,
JFA,
Dawn Penn,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Christie,
Nas,
Scientists,
Bush Tetras,
Quadrant,
Rites of Spring,
Sister Nancy,
Mad Mike,
Zapp,
Barry Ungar,
Danielle Patucci,
Minor Threat,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Flag,
Matthew Halsall,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.