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 Armenia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Siglo XX to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Gichy Dan,
Peter & Gordon,
Quadrant,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Martian,
Donald Byrd,
Delon & Dalcan,
R.M.O.,
Franke,
Lindisfarne,
Groovy Waters,
Fela Kuti,
Motorama,
Albert Ayler,
Nick Fraelich,
The Dead C,
The Fugs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Television,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Matthew Bourne,
The Saints,
The Fuzztones,
Altered Images,
LL Cool J,
Kenny Larkin,
The Invisible,
The Toasters,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxy Music,
Yusef Lateef,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Delta 5,
Angry Samoans,
Rod Modell,
Skriet,
The American Breed,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Basic Channel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Janne Schatter,
Hardrive,
Jacob Miller,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Shadows of Knight,
Siglo XX,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Slick Rick,
Q65,
Mad Mike,
Girls At Our Best!,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.