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 Jordan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Davy DMX to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Suicide,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Germs,
The Slits,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacob Miller,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scratch Acid,
DNA,
The Busters,
The Vogues,
Interpol,
Inner City,
Talk Talk,
Ten City,
Magma,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dave Gahan,
Cal Tjader,
B.T. Express,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nico,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Unwound,
Derrick Morgan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pylon,
Shuggie Otis,
Grey Daturas,
Malaria!,
Nils Olav,
Jawbox,
Traffic Nightmare,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Wake,
Suburban Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joyce Sims,
Mandrill,
DJ Style,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
Second Layer,
The Young Rascals,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Slackers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wally Richardson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yusef Lateef,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bush Tetras,
Tears for Fears,
Half Japanese,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Anthony Braxton,
Section 25,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.