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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Althea and Donna,
Lower 48,
Terry Callier,
Malaria!,
DJ Sneak,
Monolake,
Radiohead,
The Fugs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Evens,
Mars,
Crash Course in Science,
Crooked Eye,
Barry Ungar,
Visage,
K-Klass,
The Moody Blues,
Yusef Lateef,
Boz Scaggs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nils Olav,
Cecil Taylor,
Adolescents,
Goldenarms,
Peter & Gordon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Negative Approach,
Brothers Johnson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
H. Thieme,
Tres Demented,
Howard Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
cv313,
The Vogues,
Mantronix,
Lyres,
Eric B and Rakim,
The J.B.'s,
Sandy B,
Grauzone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Gang Dance,
LL Cool J,
Animal Collective,
Davy DMX,
The Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Surgeon,
Patti Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.