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 Antigua and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Chris Corsano to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Section 25,
One Last Wish,
Pole,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Warren Ellis,
The Barracudas,
Todd Terry,
Make Up,
Brand Nubian,
John Holt,
Erasure,
Byron Stingily,
Aural Exciters,
The Black Dice,
The Raincoats,
Deakin,
Brick,
The Birthday Party,
Eddi Front,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Names,
Radio Birdman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Clear Light,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Leaves,
Skaos,
MC5,
Khruangbin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Mills,
Cybotron,
The Saints,
Alphaville,
Reuben Wilson,
The Misunderstood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swell Maps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siglo XX,
Black Sheep,
X-102,
The Evens,
ABC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thompson Twins,
Scan 7,
The Remains,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swans,
PIL,
Aaron Thompson,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun City Girls,
New York Dolls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Trumans Water,
The Cure,
D'Angelo,
Faraquet,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.