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 Sri Lanka and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Kerri Chandler to the electroclash 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Index,
Nils Olav,
Sällskapet,
Moby Grape,
Black Pus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Misunderstood,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker,
World's Most,
Agitation Free,
Mr. Review,
Icehouse,
Rekid,
James White and The Blacks,
The Knickerbockers,
Gichy Dan,
The Walker Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
The Dead C,
John Holt,
Skarface,
These Immortal Souls,
DJ Sneak,
Crash Course in Science,
Albert Ayler,
Lyres,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Danielle Patucci,
Rufus Thomas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reagan Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brand Nubian,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Stooges,
The Seeds,
Avey Tare,
The Fire Engines,
Monolake,
Animal Collective,
Sex Pistols,
Ten City,
The Sonics,
Skriet,
Jeff Mills,
Al Stewart,
kango's stein massive,
Sound Behaviour,
Cluster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
KRS-One,
Barry Ungar,
Kool Moe Dee,
The United States of America,
Echospace,
the Germs,
Matthew Bourne,
Fat Boys,
Magazine,
Country Teasers,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.