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 Venezuela and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Fugazi to the punk 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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
The Cure,
Archie Shepp,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül II,
Joyce Sims,
Q and Not U,
Lou Christie,
Nas,
Excepter,
Intrusion,
Amazonics,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bluetip,
The Trojans,
Massinfluence,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
Pagans,
Eden Ahbez,
Iggy Pop,
Prince Buster,
Sandy B,
Half Japanese,
Monks,
Adolescents,
Saccharine Trust,
Ice-T,
The Misunderstood,
Lower 48,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wings,
The Mojo Men,
The Busters,
Vainqueur,
Mr. Review,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tres Demented,
D'Angelo,
Ituana,
Fear,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oblivians,
the Human League,
John Holt,
Alison Limerick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Y Pants,
Soft Machine,
Hoover,
The Seeds,
Juan Atkins,
48th St. Collective,
The Mummies,
Bronski Beat,
Sun City Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.