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 Antigua and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Holger Czukay 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 Radiohead to the disco 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Jacob Miller,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Pop Group,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Selecter,
Black Moon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Unwound,
Scratch Acid,
The Residents,
Yellowson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Severed Heads,
Pagans,
X-101,
the Swans,
Warsaw,
Bob Dylan,
The Grass Roots,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ludus,
Ronnie Foster,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Techniques,
The Young Rascals,
Con Funk Shun,
Arthur Verocai,
Sexual Harrassment,
Piero Umiliani,
Delon & Dalcan,
Trumans Water,
Sixth Finger,
Brand Nubian,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Inner City,
Drexciya,
Monolake,
Absolute Body Control,
The Litter,
Jerry's Kids,
FM Einheit,
OOIOO,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Names,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dawn Penn,
F. McDonald,
Audionom,
Tres Demented,
Rotary Connection,
Oneida,
Pulsallama,
Negative Approach,
The Mojo Men,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Camouflage,
Sparks,
Japan,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.