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 Mozambique and from Beijing.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 The Martian to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Tomorrow,
Juan Atkins,
The Human League,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
UT,
Amon Düül II,
The Fugs,
Model 500,
Curtis Mayfield,
Toni Rubio,
Nirvana,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Christie,
Underground Resistance,
Boredoms,
E-Dancer,
Reuben Wilson,
Tom Boy,
Sparks,
Chris & Cosey,
Charles Mingus,
Animal Collective,
DJ Sneak,
Roy Ayers,
Nas,
Eric Dolphy,
These Immortal Souls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Agent Orange,
Liliput,
Deepchord,
Mark Hollis,
Peter and Kerry,
Alton Ellis,
Gang Green,
John Cale,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Smoke,
CMW,
Avey Tare,
Funky Four + One,
Ponytail,
The Red Krayola,
James White and The Blacks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Neon Judgement,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Offenders,
Roxette,
The Birthday Party,
Das Ding,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
EPMD,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.