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 Africa 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Young Marble Giants to the funk 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Rosa Yemen,
Youth Brigade,
Can,
David Axelrod,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ken Boothe,
The Fall,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joey Negro,
Judy Mowatt,
Ohio Players,
T. Rex,
Los Fastidios,
Tres Demented,
Brass Construction,
ABC,
Ludus,
Dawn Penn,
Gerry Rafferty,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott Heron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hashim,
Young Marble Giants,
Minnie Riperton,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swans,
Flipper,
the Swans,
Chrome,
The Sonics,
Nik Kershaw,
10cc,
Spandau Ballet,
Dark Day,
Accadde A,
The Count Five,
Leonard Cohen,
The Misunderstood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gun Club,
Inner City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mr. Review,
Laurel Aitken,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Monolake,
Country Teasers,
Andrew Hill,
Minor Threat,
Malaria!,
Byron Stingily,
Althea and Donna,
Wolf Eyes,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.