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 Brunei and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Nile Rodgers 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the electroclash 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Thompson Twins,
The Techniques,
Kerrie Biddell,
T.S.O.L.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
KRS-One,
Junior Murvin,
Malaria!,
The Tremeloes,
Sparks,
Ultravox,
Black Sheep,
DJ Sneak,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barbara Tucker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Last Poets,
Skaos,
Porter Ricks,
MDC,
X-Ray Spex,
Pussy Galore,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Divine Comedy,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rosa Yemen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crash Course in Science,
Altered Images,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blake Baxter,
The Red Krayola,
The Associates,
Eli Mardock,
Cal Tjader,
The Motions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suburban Knight,
The Gun Club,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sight & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
John Coltrane,
Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Foxx,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skriet,
Rites of Spring,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harpers Bizarre,
10cc,
The Index,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.