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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
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 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 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 Gichy Dan to the techno 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Laurel Aitken,
Loose Ends,
Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T.S.O.L.,
The Young Rascals,
Saccharine Trust,
Con Funk Shun,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Fraelich,
Wasted Youth,
Deepchord,
Barbara Tucker,
Cymande,
Bush Tetras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Minor Threat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New Order,
Sonic Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Fad Gadget,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters,
Zero Boys,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Offenders,
DNA,
Al Stewart,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Germs,
Niagra,
The Fall,
Malaria!,
Fear,
Surgeon,
Eddi Front,
Tears for Fears,
The Sonics,
Model 500,
Infiniti,
Max Romeo,
Babytalk,
Skaos,
Gang Gang Dance,
Idris Muhammad,
The Smiths,
The Selecter,
The Vogues,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crime,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Altered Images,
Matthew Bourne,
The Zeros,
Scratch Acid,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.