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 Netherlands and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin 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 Matthew Halsall to the electroclash 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Can,
A Certain Ratio,
Organ,
Nirvana,
Bobby Byrd,
David McCallum,
Josef K,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Warsaw,
Bill Wells,
Sam Rivers,
Thompson Twins,
Eden Ahbez,
The Electric Prunes,
Goldenarms,
The J.B.'s,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Adolescents,
Lebanon Hanover,
Schoolly D,
Eric Dolphy,
Bauhaus,
Fela Kuti,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
June of 44,
Aaron Thompson,
Buzzcocks,
Oblivians,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kurtis Blow,
cv313,
Lucky Dragons,
Sonny Sharrock,
Prince Buster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lalann,
the Germs,
This Heat,
Lindisfarne,
Nils Olav,
Kaleidoscope,
The Count Five,
Monolake,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wasted Youth,
The Mojo Men,
Radiohead,
Dennis Brown,
Motorama,
Basic Channel,
kango's stein massive,
Deakin,
Wolf Eyes,
Alison Limerick,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ohio Players,
The Litter,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.