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 Kosovo and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grunge 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
a-ha,
New Age Steppers,
Graham Central Station,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rakim,
Sight & Sound,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Flesh Eaters,
Malaria!,
Neu!,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brass Construction,
Pantaleimon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
PIL,
The Selecter,
Section 25,
Brick,
The Sound,
Little Man,
Black Bananas,
Fugazi,
Aural Exciters,
Kaleidoscope,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Siglo XX,
World's Most,
Bill Near,
Shuggie Otis,
Unrelated Segments,
Kevin Saunderson,
Audionom,
KRS-One,
Whodini,
Susan Cadogan,
Dawn Penn,
Sun Ra,
Kenny Larkin,
Das Ding,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chris Corsano,
Rekid,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABC,
The Motions,
Alice Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Swans,
Joey Negro,
Donny Hathaway,
The Blues Magoos,
Sixth Finger,
Jeff Mills,
Porter Ricks,
Todd Rundgren,
The Techniques,
Anthony Braxton,
Eve St. Jones,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.