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 Georgia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James White and The Blacks,
Sound Behaviour,
Boogie Down Productions,
H. Thieme,
Suburban Knight,
Derrick May,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
Ronan,
Quando Quango,
Simply Red,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pylon,
Black Moon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Icehouse,
The Wake,
Young Marble Giants,
The J.B.'s,
Theoretical Girls,
the Sonics,
Rekid,
Banda Bassotti,
The Raincoats,
KRS-One,
Urselle,
Tim Buckley,
John Lydon,
Ossler,
The Birthday Party,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Albert Ayler,
Severed Heads,
Hashim,
Darondo,
Camouflage,
Fluxion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anthony Braxton,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Can,
New York Dolls,
A Certain Ratio,
Dawn Penn,
Mantronix,
JFA,
In Retrospect,
Patti Smith,
Kool Moe Dee,
Model 500,
Wings,
Nils Olav,
The Detroit Cobras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Sherman,
Massinfluence,
Supertramp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.