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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar 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 Kerri Chandler to the techno 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Blues Magoos,
X-101,
Rotary Connection,
Tim Buckley,
Scan 7,
The Busters,
Lindisfarne,
Yellowson,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Visage,
The Pop Group,
David Axelrod,
In Retrospect,
John Lydon,
Essential Logic,
kango's stein massive,
The Dead C,
the Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Livin' Joy,
Crime,
Maurizio,
Buzzcocks,
Bad Manners,
Kayak,
Soulsonic Force,
Negative Approach,
The Remains,
Davy DMX,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Agent Orange,
Brass Construction,
The Durutti Column,
Tommy Roe,
The Fuzztones,
Monolake,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Cell,
H. Thieme,
The Monks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Graham Central Station,
The Knickerbockers,
Rosa Yemen,
Procol Harum,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barrington Levy,
Minutemen,
Hot Snakes,
Interpol,
Scott Walker,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.