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 Oman and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Groovy Waters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Sparks,
The American Breed,
Kerri Chandler,
Ronnie Foster,
The Kinks,
Camouflage,
Neu!,
Smog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eden Ahbez,
Absolute Body Control,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Heaven 17,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Can,
Don Cherry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Khruangbin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Angels of Light,
The Standells,
John Cale,
Harmonia,
Erykah Badu,
John Coltrane,
KRS-One,
Ash Ra Tempel,
MDC,
Max Romeo,
Gong,
Bobby Womack,
the Fania All-Stars,
LL Cool J,
Delta 5,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Byrd,
Little Man,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Christie,
Clear Light,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jandek,
La Düsseldorf,
the Slits,
Simply Red,
Outsiders,
Groovy Waters,
K-Klass,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
Ultravox,
Nick Fraelich,
Grey Daturas,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.