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 Belgium and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Stooges to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Nils Olav,
Yellowson,
The Pretty Things,
Black Moon,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Outsiders,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Seeds,
The Techniques,
Sonic Youth,
Infiniti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brand Nubian,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rufus Thomas,
The Moleskins,
Donald Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Green,
cv313,
Au Pairs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Todd Terry,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Mojo Men,
Ken Boothe,
The Barracudas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Max Romeo,
Suburban Knight,
Deakin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott Heron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Duran Duran,
Sällskapet,
The Vogues,
Quantec,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
Vainqueur,
K-Klass,
Sarah Menescal,
Kas Product,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
CMW,
Ronnie Foster,
Silicon Teens,
Lalann,
The Doors,
The Durutti Column,
Dennis Brown,
Faust,
Toni Rubio,
Suicide,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.