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 Tunisia and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Malaria! 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Thee Headcoats,
Andrew Hill,
Barbara Tucker,
Main Source,
Little Man,
Nico,
China Crisis,
Ultravox,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Ice-T,
Bobby Womack,
Jerry's Kids,
Althea and Donna,
New Age Steppers,
Fluxion,
Amazonics,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
Unrelated Segments,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Thompson Twins,
Angry Samoans,
Outsiders,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dirtbombs,
Pantaleimon,
Scan 7,
Henry Cow,
Los Fastidios,
Sister Nancy,
Fat Boys,
Magazine,
Boz Scaggs,
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lightning Bolt,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soulsonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
CMW,
Silicon Teens,
The Fuzztones,
The Black Dice,
Roger Hodgson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wally Richardson,
FM Einheit,
Banda Bassotti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks,
Fela Kuti,
Nas,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.