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 Guyana and from London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rufus Thomas to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Moebius,
Ornette Coleman,
The Motions,
Anthony Braxton,
June of 44,
Buzzcocks,
The Saints,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Jawbox,
The Real Kids,
Agitation Free,
Pagans,
the Soft Cell,
48th St. Collective,
Rotary Connection,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerri Chandler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kayak,
Quadrant,
Make Up,
The Birthday Party,
Sight & Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Masters at Work,
Nirvana,
Can,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tropical Tobacco,
Anakelly,
Yaz,
Accadde A,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra,
ABC,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amon Düül II,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Index,
Whodini,
Scrapy,
Mo-Dettes,
Severed Heads,
The Offenders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joey Negro,
The Slackers,
Loose Ends,
Pet Shop Boys,
DJ Sneak,
a-ha,
The Mojo Men,
Khruangbin,
Brand Nubian,
Electric Prunes,
Gang of Four,
Reuben Wilson,
Goldenarms,
Stetsasonic,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.