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 Georgia and from Toronto.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Blossom Toes to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Warsaw,
Second Layer,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lindisfarne,
Camberwell Now,
Soulsonic Force,
Pagans,
Agitation Free,
Ronnie Foster,
Adolescents,
Ituana,
Althea and Donna,
Aaron Thompson,
Don Cherry,
Prince Buster,
Arthur Verocai,
the Soft Cell,
Lakeside,
The Move,
Danielle Patucci,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Selecter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cecil Taylor,
The Pop Group,
Fluxion,
The Misunderstood,
Eli Mardock,
The Searchers,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
Panda Bear,
Gang Starr,
Fad Gadget,
DJ Style,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mojo Men,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fall,
Depeche Mode,
Anakelly,
John Lydon,
Roger Hodgson,
Blake Baxter,
Joey Negro,
Lungfish,
Charles Mingus,
Slick Rick,
The Litter,
Gang of Four,
Basic Channel,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed,
Alton Ellis,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.