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 Zambia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 June of 44 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Circle Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
Mission of Burma,
Japan,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sonics,
Monks,
The Fall,
Can,
Quando Quango,
the Soft Cell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
Mark Hollis,
Oblivians,
Suicide,
Black Flag,
DJ Style,
Royal Trux,
Whodini,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
T. Rex,
Althea and Donna,
Unwound,
The Monks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Byron Stingily,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Siglo XX,
Jeff Lynne,
Sam Rivers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Trojans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Oneida,
Lakeside,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Reed,
Dorothy Ashby,
Loose Ends,
Don Cherry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Janne Schatter,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalann,
Zero Boys,
Ossler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Johnny Clarke,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Schoolly D,
Jawbox,
Clear Light,
Duran Duran,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jandek,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
Jacques Brel,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.