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 Lesotho and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Can to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Joey Negro,
The Blues Magoos,
Bauhaus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiohead,
Neu!,
The Cure,
Smog,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DJ Style,
Minny Pops,
Au Pairs,
U.S. Maple,
The Busters,
Sam Rivers,
Magma,
L. Decosne,
June of 44,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The J.B.'s,
Scientists,
Television Personalities,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slackers,
Mo-Dettes,
Slick Rick,
June Days,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Metal Thangz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Japan,
Q and Not U,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
Harmonia,
Young Marble Giants,
Skarface,
Nas,
Bobby Sherman,
Kurtis Blow,
Joensuu 1685,
T. Rex,
Yellowson,
The Searchers,
Procol Harum,
The Star Department,
Dead Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Monks,
Excepter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun Ra,
Sparks,
Vainqueur,
Jawbox,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.