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 Kiribati and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Wasted Youth to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
the Soft Cell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sällskapet,
Sixth Finger,
Lindisfarne,
Vainqueur,
Ossler,
The Offenders,
Mr. Review,
The Cowsills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Los Fastidios,
The Golliwogs,
Robert Wyatt,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Moon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chrome,
Dave Gahan,
Joey Negro,
Scientists,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scrapy,
Section 25,
Jandek,
Wasted Youth,
Cal Tjader,
Nas,
Sister Nancy,
Andrew Hill,
Grauzone,
Bob Dylan,
The Tremeloes,
Basic Channel,
Camberwell Now,
Joyce Sims,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Invisible,
Flipper,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rekid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacob Miller,
Zapp,
Nick Fraelich,
Jacques Brel,
Moss Icon,
Depeche Mode,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
Wings,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Lydon,
Q and Not U,
The Raincoats,
Todd Terry,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.