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 Brunei and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Icehouse to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
B.T. Express,
Flash Fearless,
Reagan Youth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cecil Taylor,
The Names,
Oneida,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joey Negro,
Duran Duran,
The Seeds,
Wolf Eyes,
Angry Samoans,
Silicon Teens,
Chris & Cosey,
Ice-T,
Lower 48,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Move,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantaleimon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Pus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Severed Heads,
Eddi Front,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gong,
Minny Pops,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rod Modell,
Mr. Review,
F. McDonald,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cybotron,
Dead Boys,
EPMD,
the Normal,
48th St. Collective,
Massinfluence,
Matthew Halsall,
Nico,
Mark Hollis,
Bill Wells,
Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skriet,
The Grass Roots,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cymande,
The Beau Brummels,
Alton Ellis,
Matthew Bourne,
Brass Construction,
Neu!,
Arab on Radar,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.