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 Namibia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Agent Orange,
Mr. Review,
Boredoms,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rosa Yemen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Public Enemy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Slits,
Pylon,
AZ,
Groovy Waters,
Delta 5,
PIL,
Can,
Gil Scott Heron,
Youth Brigade,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lakeside,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grauzone,
The Evens,
Minny Pops,
Rakim,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fire Engines,
X-101,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Star Department,
T. Rex,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Al Stewart,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeff Lynne,
Ralphi Rosario,
UT,
Bill Near,
New York Dolls,
Donald Byrd,
Nils Olav,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed,
Interpol,
The Standells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sam Rivers,
Harmonia,
Kerri Chandler,
cv313,
The Electric Prunes,
Qualms,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.