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 Mali and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Boredoms to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Derrick Morgan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Unwound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Steve Hackett,
Jimmy McGriff,
Qualms,
Quantec,
The Tremeloes,
The Wake,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cymande,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Parrish,
The Slackers,
Y Pants,
The Remains,
Ken Boothe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
MDC,
Echospace,
Nils Olav,
Alton Ellis,
The Doors,
Youth Brigade,
Kayak,
Easy Going,
Bobby Byrd,
Nirvana,
The Vogues,
Oneida,
Tubeway Army,
Lebanon Hanover,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Mojo Men,
The Music Machine,
The Move,
Rod Modell,
Con Funk Shun,
Scan 7,
The Happenings,
Pussy Galore,
The Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Q65,
Country Teasers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Shuggie Otis,
Half Japanese,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Malaria!,
Lyres,
The Fire Engines,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.