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 Norway 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pierre Henry to the punk 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eve St. Jones,
Porter Ricks,
Roger Hodgson,
Buzzcocks,
The Gladiators,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Pus,
the Human League,
World's Most,
Whodini,
Bobby Womack,
Dave Gahan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pagans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vladislav Delay,
Erykah Badu,
Kurtis Blow,
Eli Mardock,
Hardrive,
Kaleidoscope,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tomorrow,
Soft Machine,
MC5,
Radio Birdman,
Wire,
China Crisis,
Delta 5,
Ponytail,
Saccharine Trust,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minutemen,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Swans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Searchers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Slave,
Massinfluence,
B.T. Express,
Skriet,
Visage,
Pharoah Sanders,
Darondo,
Wolf Eyes,
Scion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barrington Levy,
Jandek,
John Lydon,
Supertramp,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fall,
Pole,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roxy Music,
Joyce Sims,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.