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 Gambia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Suicide to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
The Blues Magoos,
Khruangbin,
Cluster,
Blossom Toes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cymande,
The Grass Roots,
The Remains,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Yazoo,
EPMD,
Sixth Finger,
Rhythm & Sound,
Don Cherry,
Hardrive,
The Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
ABC,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Red Krayola,
Saccharine Trust,
Charles Mingus,
Depeche Mode,
Vainqueur,
Tommy Roe,
Gong,
Bill Wells,
Section 25,
Sugar Minott,
Hasil Adkins,
The Golliwogs,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Walker Brothers,
John Holt,
Deakin,
Eric Dolphy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
8 Eyed Spy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kurtis Blow,
Harmonia,
Half Japanese,
Magma,
Skriet,
Kerri Chandler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lyres,
Hot Snakes,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Seeds,
Theoretical Girls,
Howard Jones,
The Move,
The Gladiators,
Sight & Sound,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.