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 Tanzania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Mojo Men to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Soul II Soul,
Con Funk Shun,
The Saints,
Dave Gahan,
Neil Young,
Erykah Badu,
Porter Ricks,
Rapeman,
Royal Trux,
Danielle Patucci,
Susan Cadogan,
Groovy Waters,
Bang On A Can,
Oneida,
Stetsasonic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Procol Harum,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Style,
Desert Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
Minny Pops,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Duran Duran,
Suicide,
Patti Smith,
Todd Terry,
Crime,
Zapp,
The Sound,
Neu!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pussy Galore,
Wasted Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Pretty Things,
Negative Approach,
The Cure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Newcleus,
Soft Cell,
Visage,
New Age Steppers,
JFA,
Charles Mingus,
Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Au Pairs,
The Searchers,
The Selecter,
KRS-One,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eve St. Jones,
Barry Ungar,
Monolake,
The Velvet Underground,
Suburban Knight,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.