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 Portugal and from Paris.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sarah Menescal to the electroclash 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rosa Yemen,
Ken Boothe,
Faraquet,
Television,
Soul II Soul,
Wasted Youth,
Suburban Knight,
John Cale,
Bob Dylan,
Wally Richardson,
Dual Sessions,
Crash Course in Science,
Susan Cadogan,
EPMD,
Kenny Larkin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Derrick May,
Smog,
Rites of Spring,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Sound,
Monolake,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Starr,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Five Americans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yusef Lateef,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Birthday Party,
Moebius,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Smiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
U.S. Maple,
The Beau Brummels,
Iggy Pop,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Panda Bear,
Cecil Taylor,
Gong,
Maleditus Sound,
Cluster,
The Neon Judgement,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gladiators,
Groovy Waters,
Theoretical Girls,
cv313,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The New Christs,
Crooked Eye,
Altered Images,
Alice Coltrane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Hood,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Kinks,
Angry Samoans,
Fatback Band,
Newcleus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.