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 Somalia and from Seoul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
The Dirtbombs,
Wire,
Los Fastidios,
Soul II Soul,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Tommy Roe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lakeside,
Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Animal Collective,
Yellowson,
Funky Four + One,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Sherman,
Blossom Toes,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Stooges,
The Red Krayola,
Ultravox,
The Techniques,
the Germs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Foxx,
Sight & Sound,
Sixth Finger,
The Moody Blues,
Sex Pistols,
David McCallum,
Khruangbin,
Eli Mardock,
Juan Atkins,
Inner City,
Jawbox,
The Standells,
Intrusion,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Underground Resistance,
Soft Machine,
Marvin Gaye,
The American Breed,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Association,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Franke,
Jerry's Kids,
Cymande,
June of 44,
Maleditus Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Kas Product,
The J.B.'s,
Letta Mbulu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Pop Group,
Magma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Colin Newman,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.