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 Angola and from Lyon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare 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 Rites of Spring to the disco 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Barrington Levy,
Curtis Mayfield,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Durutti Column,
Altered Images,
Spoonie Gee,
Surgeon,
Sällskapet,
Los Fastidios,
The Black Dice,
Mandrill,
Graham Central Station,
Jacob Miller,
Kerri Chandler,
Sandy B,
The Birthday Party,
The Moleskins,
Roger Hodgson,
Second Layer,
Gang Starr,
Nirvana,
The Index,
Minor Threat,
Rod Modell,
The Move,
Schoolly D,
Prince Buster,
Deepchord,
The Toasters,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxette,
Tres Demented,
Rosa Yemen,
T. Rex,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Residents,
Crash Course in Science,
Letta Mbulu,
New Age Steppers,
Unwound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mummies,
Bluetip,
The Count Five,
Eddi Front,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
Arab on Radar,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ponytail,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Walker Brothers,
The Gladiators,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.