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 Laos and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Radio Birdman to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dead Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Oblivians,
Symarip,
Davy DMX,
Tubeway Army,
Swell Maps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Spandau Ballet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Steve Hackett,
Fad Gadget,
Mad Mike,
Kerri Chandler,
Tommy Roe,
The Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Drexciya,
Alton Ellis,
Zero Boys,
Bluetip,
Yazoo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Laurel Aitken,
Sexual Harrassment,
Con Funk Shun,
Blake Baxter,
Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faraquet,
The Slits,
David McCallum,
Marmalade,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vainqueur,
Lalann,
Cybotron,
The Dead C,
Agent Orange,
Los Fastidios,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun City Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Chrome,
Rufus Thomas,
Talk Talk,
Ultimate Spinach,
F. McDonald,
Sam Rivers,
Peter & Gordon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.