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 Seychelles and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 F. McDonald to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quadrant,
Byron Stingily,
DJ Sneak,
Oblivians,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tom Boy,
New York Dolls,
the Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joy Division,
Slick Rick,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mission of Burma,
Deakin,
Parry Music,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Godley & Creme,
The Real Kids,
Bush Tetras,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mandrill,
Matthew Halsall,
Whodini,
Fat Boys,
Heaven 17,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Invisible,
ABC,
The Mojo Men,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scan 7,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bluetip,
John Lydon,
Sun Ra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hashim,
The Gories,
Ten City,
Unwound,
The Associates,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
Terry Callier,
The Red Krayola,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bill Wells,
Swell Maps,
cv313,
Accadde A,
Television,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brothers Johnson,
Kas Product,
The Standells,
Cheater Slicks,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.