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 Bolivia and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator 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 The Doobie Brothers to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Depeche Mode,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sight & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Deadbeat,
Barrington Levy,
Tom Boy,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
Liliput,
The Vogues,
Sarah Menescal,
The Motions,
Bobby Womack,
Main Source,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Index,
The Victims,
Dead Boys,
48th St. Collective,
JFA,
Jerry's Kids,
Outsiders,
Jeff Mills,
Flipper,
Terry Callier,
One Last Wish,
cv313,
Tears for Fears,
Nils Olav,
Eden Ahbez,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bill Near,
Erasure,
Amazonics,
Schoolly D,
The Kinks,
Barbara Tucker,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiohead,
The Real Kids,
The Cramps,
Index,
Black Bananas,
Boredoms,
Flash Fearless,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Television Personalities,
Robert Wyatt,
Pere Ubu,
Aloha Tigers,
Dennis Brown,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brass Construction,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Neon Judgement,
Barry Ungar,
Skarface,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.