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 Guatemala and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Interpol to the rap 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column 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?
Johnny Osbourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Oblivians,
Colin Newman,
Youth Brigade,
Fugazi,
Agent Orange,
David McCallum,
Mars,
Letta Mbulu,
Patti Smith,
Marc Almond,
Arcadia,
Gang Starr,
The Doors,
Eddi Front,
Dead Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Red Krayola,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Mummies,
Soft Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Halsall,
Juan Atkins,
ABC,
Parry Music,
Brothers Johnson,
Circle Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jandek,
Donald Byrd,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rekid,
Toni Rubio,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barbara Tucker,
Vladislav Delay,
The Techniques,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Inner City,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stetsasonic,
Mr. Review,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barry Ungar,
Scratch Acid,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Cell,
Harmonia,
Minor Threat,
The Monochrome Set,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rakim,
Monks,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.