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 Finland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crash Course in Science to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Rufus Thomas,
Bluetip,
Grauzone,
Livin' Joy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Magma,
The Standells,
Graham Central Station,
Organ,
Gichy Dan,
Surgeon,
48th St. Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
OOIOO,
Index,
a-ha,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agitation Free,
Babytalk,
The Smiths,
Prince Buster,
Kayak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
AZ,
Ornette Coleman,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalann,
The Doors,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Qualms,
Camberwell Now,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stiv Bators,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Silicon Teens,
Anakelly,
The Wake,
The Monochrome Set,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ten City,
Deadbeat,
Drexciya,
John Holt,
Moby Grape,
Warren Ellis,
Fat Boys,
Tim Buckley,
World's Most,
The Searchers,
The Evens,
Guru Guru,
Inner City,
Gang Starr,
The Slits,
James White and The Blacks,
Roger Hodgson,
Donny Hathaway,
H. Thieme,
Depeche Mode,
Nirvana,
DJ Style,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.