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 Portugal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grauzone,
Liliput,
Metal Thangz,
The Modern Lovers,
Barrington Levy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Pus,
EPMD,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sound Behaviour,
Yusef Lateef,
Franke,
Yazoo,
Mr. Review,
Funkadelic,
Lindisfarne,
Audionom,
Gang Gang Dance,
Radio Birdman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Warsaw,
The Dead C,
Derrick Morgan,
Camberwell Now,
Vladislav Delay,
Swell Maps,
Swans,
Curtis Mayfield,
H. Thieme,
Sonic Youth,
The Monochrome Set,
Andrew Hill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scan 7,
Anakelly,
Hot Snakes,
Khruangbin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
48th St. Collective,
The Red Krayola,
Au Pairs,
Pagans,
The Slits,
The Doors,
Black Flag,
Jesper Dahlback,
Suicide,
Deadbeat,
Little Man,
Amon Düül II,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Young Marble Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moleskins,
Sällskapet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Throbbing Gristle,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.