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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeru the Damaja to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Byron Stingily,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
Von Mondo,
Talk Talk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Byrd,
H. Thieme,
Amazonics,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Görl,
Amon Düül,
Metal Thangz,
T.S.O.L.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dawn Penn,
The Red Krayola,
Darondo,
Unwound,
The Seeds,
Black Sheep,
Malaria!,
David Axelrod,
Oneida,
Charles Mingus,
Negative Approach,
Blossom Toes,
Flipper,
Jeff Lynne,
the Normal,
Adolescents,
Matthew Bourne,
Neil Young,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sandy B,
Blancmange,
cv313,
Michelle Simonal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yazoo,
Cybotron,
The Golliwogs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kenny Larkin,
Severed Heads,
Spoonie Gee,
Skriet,
Black Moon,
The Selecter,
Marshall Jefferson,
Heaven 17,
Ossler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Litter,
World's Most,
Moebius,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.