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 Turkmenistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eve St. Jones to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Con Funk Shun,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nils Olav,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
The Blackbyrds,
LL Cool J,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
Magma,
The Mummies,
Dual Sessions,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bizarre Inc.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doors,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Flipper,
Thompson Twins,
The Fall,
Charles Mingus,
Buzzcocks,
Brass Construction,
Ohio Players,
Alison Limerick,
Can,
Excepter,
Terry Callier,
Rufus Thomas,
Deadbeat,
MC5,
Make Up,
Ronan,
Swell Maps,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angry Samoans,
Michelle Simonal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cramps,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Velvet Underground,
the Human League,
Sam Rivers,
Freddie Wadling,
Hoover,
This Heat,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Brand Nubian,
The Seeds,
Shuggie Otis,
Suburban Knight,
The Barracudas,
Moby Grape,
Pantytec,
Gong,
Nas,
Q and Not U,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.