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 Vanuatu and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the rock 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The American Breed,
Unrelated Segments,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Carl Craig,
the Soft Cell,
The Wake,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ponytail,
Dark Day,
Donald Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
Agent Orange,
The Dead C,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harpers Bizarre,
The New Christs,
The United States of America,
The Standells,
Alice Coltrane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Excepter,
Nirvana,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fad Gadget,
Cal Tjader,
Peter and Kerry,
Funkadelic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Derrick Morgan,
Rhythm & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Fugazi,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Gang Dance,
Royal Trux,
The Flesh Eaters,
Althea and Donna,
Blake Baxter,
Jacques Brel,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Bourne,
Simply Red,
Vladislav Delay,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boredoms,
Aural Exciters,
Aswad,
The Associates,
Sandy B,
Pulsallama,
Bill Wells,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.