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 Mongolia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
John Cale,
The Misunderstood,
Thompson Twins,
John Lydon,
Delta 5,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Reed,
Lou Christie,
Rakim,
China Crisis,
the Association,
Grey Daturas,
The Associates,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter and Kerry,
Maurizio,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cowsills,
Bill Near,
Althea and Donna,
Fugazi,
Yazoo,
The Remains,
Outsiders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Sonic Youth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deadbeat,
Minor Threat,
Susan Cadogan,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fatback Band,
Wasted Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Depeche Mode,
Harry Pussy,
Swell Maps,
Dead Boys,
The Slackers,
Brass Construction,
Swans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Howard Jones,
Negative Approach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Accadde A,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lucky Dragons,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Zero Boys,
Talk Talk,
Pussy Galore,
Guru Guru,
Young Marble Giants,
Rekid,
Whodini,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nils Olav,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.