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 Kyrgyzstan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet 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 Ken Boothe to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Zapp,
Mission of Burma,
June Days,
Robert Wyatt,
Swell Maps,
New Age Steppers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Arthur Verocai,
Lakeside,
Marine Girls,
Quando Quango,
Lalann,
Oblivians,
Absolute Body Control,
Duran Duran,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The United States of America,
Fela Kuti,
Graham Central Station,
Outsiders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
These Immortal Souls,
New York Dolls,
the Soft Cell,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
T. Rex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Procol Harum,
Sarah Menescal,
Warsaw,
Rotary Connection,
Echospace,
Robert Görl,
Bob Dylan,
Soft Cell,
Ponytail,
Black Bananas,
Angry Samoans,
Shoche,
Spandau Ballet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun Ra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Inner City,
Rosa Yemen,
The Selecter,
The American Breed,
Eyeless In Gaza,
KRS-One,
Black Flag,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
One Last Wish,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.