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 Estonia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 the Soft Cell to the dance 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
The Vogues,
Jesper Dahlback,
Terrestrial Tones,
cv313,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arab on Radar,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ossler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Matthew Halsall,
Livin' Joy,
The Residents,
Cecil Taylor,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Sneak,
Adolescents,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The J.B.'s,
Khruangbin,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Dirtbombs,
Kurtis Blow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nico,
Soft Cell,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Doors,
Porter Ricks,
Panda Bear,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Green,
DNA,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minutemen,
The Smiths,
Icehouse,
Shuggie Otis,
K-Klass,
The Velvet Underground,
Scan 7,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cluster,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Newcleus,
Rotary Connection,
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Lynne,
Warsaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aural Exciters,
the Normal,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pole,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.