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 Uzbekistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the funk 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gun Club,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Zeros,
Gang Starr,
John Holt,
Soft Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Tears for Fears,
Gabor Szabo,
the Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
KRS-One,
Eve St. Jones,
Subhumans,
Q and Not U,
Ituana,
the Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Slits,
One Last Wish,
The Fortunes,
Essential Logic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moby Grape,
Blossom Toes,
Ice-T,
The Dirtbombs,
Nas,
Jerry's Kids,
Brand Nubian,
The Pop Group,
Vainqueur,
The Divine Comedy,
Amazonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
Interpol,
U.S. Maple,
Juan Atkins,
David Bowie,
The Stooges,
Josef K,
The United States of America,
Popol Vuh,
Altered Images,
Funky Four + One,
Crime,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cal Tjader,
AZ,
Animal Collective,
Rotary Connection,
Fugazi,
The J.B.'s,
Basic Channel,
James White and The Blacks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Surgeon,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.