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 Brazil and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe 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 Tropical Tobacco to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Crooked Eye,
Radio Birdman,
Cheater Slicks,
Talk Talk,
Drexciya,
The Moody Blues,
John Foxx,
Donny Hathaway,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pierre Henry,
The Blues Magoos,
Freddie Wadling,
Dark Day,
The Associates,
Wally Richardson,
Chris Corsano,
Sonny Sharrock,
Icehouse,
The Slits,
The Fortunes,
Babytalk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Remains,
Moss Icon,
Vainqueur,
Jawbox,
Judy Mowatt,
CMW,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yusef Lateef,
Parry Music,
The Birthday Party,
DJ Sneak,
Josef K,
Amazonics,
Brass Construction,
The Divine Comedy,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Wyatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Supertramp,
New York Dolls,
Reagan Youth,
Amon Düül,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quadrant,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
cv313,
Skaos,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Skatalites,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeff Mills,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra,
Von Mondo,
Stetsasonic,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.