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 Korea North and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the disco 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
The Standells,
a-ha,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cure,
Panda Bear,
Dark Day,
Electric Prunes,
Au Pairs,
Dual Sessions,
The Real Kids,
Barry Ungar,
Interpol,
Gang of Four,
T. Rex,
Al Stewart,
Ronan,
Sound Behaviour,
Dave Gahan,
David Axelrod,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minutemen,
Sam Rivers,
Eric Dolphy,
Byron Stingily,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
The Motions,
The Moleskins,
John Coltrane,
Alton Ellis,
Colin Newman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funkadelic,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Flag,
The Modern Lovers,
Magazine,
OOIOO,
Anakelly,
Underground Resistance,
The Zeros,
Sight & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television Personalities,
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Harry Pussy,
Slave,
Black Bananas,
the Bar-Kays,
Zapp,
Bronski Beat,
The Victims,
The Doors,
Brick,
Fugazi,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minny Pops,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.