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 Delhi.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Japan,
Faust,
Yazoo,
Scott Walker,
Country Teasers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blake Baxter,
Ultravox,
This Heat,
Bill Near,
Nas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fluxion,
Chrome,
Mandrill,
Technova,
Banda Bassotti,
Todd Terry,
The Walker Brothers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Little Man,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Birthday Party,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deepchord,
Zapp,
Blossom Toes,
Mark Hollis,
Black Flag,
Con Funk Shun,
R.M.O.,
Soul II Soul,
The Raincoats,
Sparks,
Fear,
The Electric Prunes,
Groovy Waters,
T. Rex,
Skaos,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Danielle Patucci,
Electric Prunes,
Maurizio,
Black Bananas,
The Mummies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blues Magoos,
Wally Richardson,
Interpol,
Scrapy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Can,
The Seeds,
Gichy Dan,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Evens,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Copeland,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.