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 Singapore and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the dance 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
the Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Eve St. Jones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pole,
Dawn Penn,
The New Christs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scan 7,
Letta Mbulu,
Magma,
Barbara Tucker,
Eli Mardock,
Scientists,
Stockholm Monsters,
Max Romeo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül II,
Soft Cell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Erykah Badu,
The Saints,
A Certain Ratio,
Blake Baxter,
DNA,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Connie Case,
Lower 48,
Gang Green,
Supertramp,
Television Personalities,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Drexciya,
The Slackers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Pus,
Ossler,
Magazine,
The Busters,
Leonard Cohen,
Mo-Dettes,
Infiniti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soulsonic Force,
Sugar Minott,
Lindisfarne,
48th St. Collective,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Real Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Pere Ubu,
Panda Bear,
Buzzcocks,
Trumans Water,
Moss Icon,
Crooked Eye,
Kerrie Biddell,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.