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 Papua New Guinea and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Joy Division to the crunk 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
The Motions,
The Saints,
Robert Hood,
Marc Almond,
Dead Boys,
Scion,
The New Christs,
Skarface,
La Düsseldorf,
Colin Newman,
Max Romeo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultra Naté,
Erykah Badu,
The Residents,
Delta 5,
The Sonics,
Fugazi,
Gang of Four,
The Doobie Brothers,
Althea and Donna,
Ronan,
the Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry's Kids,
DJ Style,
Bush Tetras,
Man Eating Sloth,
Danielle Patucci,
the Germs,
The Red Krayola,
Loose Ends,
Television Personalities,
Aural Exciters,
Fat Boys,
Hot Snakes,
The Mojo Men,
Oblivians,
Surgeon,
Patti Smith,
Connie Case,
Harmonia,
The Zeros,
Girls At Our Best!,
Archie Shepp,
DNA,
Radiohead,
Camberwell Now,
Ossler,
Fatback Band,
MDC,
The Index,
Essential Logic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Selecter,
Second Layer,
Youth Brigade,
The Alarm Clocks,
Toni Rubio,
The Smoke,
Robert Wyatt,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.