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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 JFA to the funk 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Bad Manners,
Wasted Youth,
Ultra Naté,
Arthur Verocai,
Subhumans,
Minutemen,
The Slits,
B.T. Express,
Drexciya,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ludus,
Judy Mowatt,
The Martian,
Barbara Tucker,
Magma,
Khruangbin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Section 25,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scrapy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Rundgren,
Dead Boys,
Ice-T,
Yaz,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
48th St. Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Altered Images,
Graham Central Station,
Mission of Burma,
Erykah Badu,
Amon Düül II,
Television,
Jacob Miller,
Harpers Bizarre,
New York Dolls,
Smog,
Con Funk Shun,
Colin Newman,
Brand Nubian,
Don Cherry,
Connie Case,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
PIL,
X-Ray Spex,
The Remains,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nas,
Tres Demented,
June Days,
Visage,
Groovy Waters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pulsallama,
H. Thieme,
The Litter,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.