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 Iran and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Porter Ricks 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers,
The Moleskins,
Darondo,
Livin' Joy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ken Boothe,
The Victims,
The United States of America,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick May,
Crash Course in Science,
Desert Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rekid,
Mark Hollis,
Suicide,
Unrelated Segments,
The Remains,
Slave,
Lou Reed,
John Foxx,
Ponytail,
Dual Sessions,
the Human League,
The Stooges,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scion,
Marmalade,
MDC,
Sun City Girls,
Scott Walker,
the Normal,
Cameo,
Brick,
Radiohead,
The Divine Comedy,
JFA,
L. Decosne,
Minnie Riperton,
The Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Stereo Dub,
Television,
kango's stein massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sonic Youth,
The Cramps,
Camberwell Now,
The Star Department,
Donald Byrd,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jandek,
Robert Hood,
Laurel Aitken,
Shoche,
CMW,
The Raincoats,
Stetsasonic,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.