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 Cameroon and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 The Black Dice to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
The Zeros,
Brand Nubian,
The Grass Roots,
Los Fastidios,
The Detroit Cobras,
Subhumans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kerri Chandler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Section 25,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Lynne,
Whodini,
Byron Stingily,
Technova,
Aswad,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Idris Muhammad,
Gong,
Marc Almond,
Young Marble Giants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Anthony Braxton,
Rapeman,
Boredoms,
Harmonia,
John Lydon,
The Invisible,
Yaz,
Groovy Waters,
Cal Tjader,
Khruangbin,
Hardrive,
Faraquet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang of Four,
The Human League,
Lalo Schifrin,
Henry Cow,
Basic Channel,
Lindisfarne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ronan,
Freddie Wadling,
The Star Department,
Terry Callier,
Alphaville,
The Velvet Underground,
Ludus,
Talk Talk,
Don Cherry,
Hoover,
Bobbi Humphrey,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marine Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.