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 Lesotho and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the electroclash 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bill Wells,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chrome,
Cluster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Basic Channel,
Crime,
Kerri Chandler,
Saccharine Trust,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mark Hollis,
Ituana,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Crash Course in Science,
Delon & Dalcan,
Connie Case,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Absolute Body Control,
Ornette Coleman,
Agent Orange,
Fat Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rakim,
The Victims,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Graham Central Station,
Sam Rivers,
Fatback Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marmalade,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
Ohio Players,
Ten City,
Altered Images,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skarface,
Prince Buster,
EPMD,
The Sound,
Scientists,
Gang Starr,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stereo Dub,
Swans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Young Marble Giants,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Soft Cell,
The Fortunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David McCallum,
Sugar Minott,
Michelle Simonal,
Bauhaus,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.