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 Oman and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Lou Reed 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 Judy Mowatt to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Aaron Thompson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Procol Harum,
Khruangbin,
Sex Pistols,
Janne Schatter,
Dawn Penn,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Wake,
The Pretty Things,
The Moleskins,
U.S. Maple,
Lindisfarne,
Shuggie Otis,
The Count Five,
Silicon Teens,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The J.B.'s,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mantronix,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Soft Cell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Desert Stars,
Don Cherry,
Reuben Wilson,
Echospace,
Magazine,
Wasted Youth,
Agent Orange,
Grauzone,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Severed Heads,
Newcleus,
A Certain Ratio,
Donald Byrd,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Underground Resistance,
Japan,
Dual Sessions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hardrive,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lungfish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mandrill,
Animal Collective,
Maurizio,
The Blues Magoos,
Max Romeo,
Ludus,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drexciya,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.