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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mandrill to the grunge 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Pussy Galore,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sonics,
KRS-One,
Bronski Beat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Camberwell Now,
Black Bananas,
Monks,
The Cure,
Inner City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crime,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Babytalk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nas,
The Modern Lovers,
Brand Nubian,
Pere Ubu,
The Skatalites,
Camouflage,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sound Behaviour,
Johnny Clarke,
Tropical Tobacco,
Technova,
Silicon Teens,
Khruangbin,
Basic Channel,
Bootsy Collins,
Rotary Connection,
One Last Wish,
Q65,
L. Decosne,
Susan Cadogan,
Drexciya,
Siglo XX,
Soul II Soul,
Ponytail,
Circle Jerks,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Moon,
Dave Gahan,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nirvana,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drive Like Jehu,
Donald Byrd,
Mandrill,
F. McDonald,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kayak,
The Evens,
Tom Boy,
Warsaw,
Scrapy,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.