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 St Lucia and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
the Swans,
Tomorrow,
Jerry's Kids,
Josef K,
Scrapy,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Pretty Things,
Das Ding,
Agent Orange,
Marine Girls,
The Trojans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Technova,
Delta 5,
the Human League,
The Toasters,
Outsiders,
Alice Coltrane,
Wire,
Charles Mingus,
Mark Hollis,
The Residents,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Morten Harket,
The Five Americans,
One Last Wish,
The Smiths,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joey Negro,
Inner City,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare,
Make Up,
Bill Wells,
Nick Fraelich,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Organ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mandrill,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Babytalk,
Pet Shop Boys,
June Days,
Tim Buckley,
Depeche Mode,
Urselle,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
David McCallum,
Eric Dolphy,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
OOIOO,
Lightning Bolt,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
Funky Four + One,
Radiopuhelimet,
Graham Central Station,
Section 25,
Flipper,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.