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 East Timor and from Madrid.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Main Source to the crunk 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Banda Bassotti,
Stereo Dub,
Cameo,
Magazine,
CMW,
Don Cherry,
Quadrant,
DNA,
Interpol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Stooges,
The Selecter,
Amazonics,
The Doors,
The Pop Group,
Blake Baxter,
Scion,
Harry Pussy,
Drexciya,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brand Nubian,
The Tremeloes,
Nico,
Depeche Mode,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Man Eating Sloth,
Malaria!,
Lower 48,
Charles Mingus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Glenn Branca,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Theoretical Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Clear Light,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cymande,
Albert Ayler,
Spoonie Gee,
10cc,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jawbox,
Mission of Burma,
JFA,
Idris Muhammad,
Symarip,
The Residents,
Procol Harum,
Zero Boys,
David McCallum,
The Skatalites,
Accadde A,
Supertramp,
Monolake,
Rufus Thomas,
Marvin Gaye,
John Holt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.