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 Nepal and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chrome to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Sparks,
Drexciya,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Outsiders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crime,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Livin' Joy,
Nik Kershaw,
Matthew Halsall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Moon,
Motorama,
The Dirtbombs,
Stetsasonic,
Aloha Tigers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minor Threat,
Subhumans,
A Certain Ratio,
Isaac Hayes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harmonia,
The Mummies,
Niagra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Buzzcocks,
Eurythmics,
Crash Course in Science,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Trojans,
Simply Red,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Altered Images,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Todd Rundgren,
Ronan,
Con Funk Shun,
The Blues Magoos,
8 Eyed Spy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chris Corsano,
The Wake,
The Last Poets,
Hot Snakes,
Andrew Hill,
the Normal,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mantronix,
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
The Count Five,
Animal Collective,
Pulsallama,
Black Flag,
The Misunderstood,
Circle Jerks,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.