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 Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Depeche Mode to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Adolescents,
Accadde A,
Pylon,
Soulsonic Force,
Todd Terry,
Desert Stars,
New Order,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Bowie,
Jandek,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
World's Most,
CMW,
Darondo,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Neil Young,
Lakeside,
Cymande,
The Birthday Party,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stiv Bators,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Anakelly,
Joe Smooth,
The Slits,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mantronix,
Marshall Jefferson,
Todd Rundgren,
Malaria!,
Sun Ra,
Drexciya,
The J.B.'s,
The Velvet Underground,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Buckinghams,
Magma,
Sarah Menescal,
Urselle,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barbara Tucker,
Archie Shepp,
Morten Harket,
Soft Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
PIL,
U.S. Maple,
Sugar Minott,
Crooked Eye,
Black Flag,
Ossler,
Barrington Levy,
Warren Ellis,
Dennis Brown,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.