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 Oman and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Birthday Party,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Funky Four + One,
Mark Hollis,
Chris Corsano,
Skarface,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
Minny Pops,
Alison Limerick,
Barry Ungar,
Anakelly,
The Remains,
Fear,
Ken Boothe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nik Kershaw,
Essential Logic,
Chris & Cosey,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fortunes,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fuzztones,
The J.B.'s,
Jawbox,
Neil Young,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roy Ayers,
X-Ray Spex,
Liliput,
Animal Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spandau Ballet,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gong,
Derrick Morgan,
The Selecter,
Audionom,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Beau Brummels,
Main Source,
The Black Dice,
Ludus,
Camouflage,
the Swans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cheater Slicks,
Sam Rivers,
Delta 5,
The Last Poets,
Sugar Minott,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Kinks,
Oblivians,
Aloha Tigers,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.