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 Australia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the rap 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Crooked Eye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sällskapet,
James White and The Blacks,
Jacques Brel,
Quantec,
Loose Ends,
Spandau Ballet,
Adolescents,
Camberwell Now,
Jawbox,
the Normal,
Saccharine Trust,
Terry Callier,
Khruangbin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Red Krayola,
The Smoke,
Yellowson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Reuben Wilson,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gories,
One Last Wish,
Joey Negro,
Gabor Szabo,
Radio Birdman,
Smog,
Oblivians,
The Toasters,
Can,
Danielle Patucci,
Agent Orange,
John Cale,
Swans,
T.S.O.L.,
Mr. Review,
Throbbing Gristle,
Silicon Teens,
Nick Fraelich,
Marcia Griffiths,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Accadde A,
Tomorrow,
The Star Department,
Hoover,
Pagans,
World's Most,
Deepchord,
Minny Pops,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare,
48th St. Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
DJ Style,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.