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 Micronesia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Offenders to the grime 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fuzztones,
Intrusion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
DJ Style,
Laurel Aitken,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scientists,
Sugar Minott,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Motions,
This Heat,
The Golliwogs,
Terry Callier,
China Crisis,
Mars,
Albert Ayler,
Joy Division,
Stiv Bators,
Susan Cadogan,
The Star Department,
Thompson Twins,
Dead Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echospace,
Lungfish,
Fluxion,
Roxy Music,
Arab on Radar,
Warsaw,
Gabor Szabo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy Collins,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Maleditus Sound,
Khruangbin,
Deepchord,
James White and The Blacks,
Suburban Knight,
The Offenders,
Mr. Review,
Monolake,
Black Sheep,
Dual Sessions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Hashim,
Con Funk Shun,
Sam Rivers,
Colin Newman,
Animal Collective,
Faraquet,
The Real Kids,
Rekid,
Tubeway Army,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.