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 Estonia and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barry Ungar to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
June Days,
Maurizio,
The Walker Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Terry Callier,
The Standells,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kurtis Blow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Radiopuhelimet,
ABC,
The Five Americans,
Slave,
Chris Corsano,
Eli Mardock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dave Gahan,
Guru Guru,
Whodini,
The Stooges,
Agitation Free,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Carl Craig,
John Holt,
Soft Machine,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Hood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Terry,
H. Thieme,
Fat Boys,
Animal Collective,
Piero Umiliani,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Supertramp,
The Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Sixth Finger,
Fad Gadget,
Monks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Japan,
Public Enemy,
Pulsallama,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Popol Vuh,
Kas Product,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Near,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
One Last Wish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lebanon Hanover,
Trumans Water,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.