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 Andorra and from New York.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba 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 Michelle Simonal to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang of Four,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Panda Bear,
The Grass Roots,
Kevin Saunderson,
Aloha Tigers,
June Days,
Banda Bassotti,
Visage,
Q and Not U,
Organ,
The Remains,
Shuggie Otis,
Circle Jerks,
Little Man,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jandek,
Deepchord,
Y Pants,
Morten Harket,
Mars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bizarre Inc.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lungfish,
Sam Rivers,
Junior Murvin,
Smog,
Iggy Pop,
Nirvana,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Main Source,
Bobby Byrd,
Von Mondo,
Barbara Tucker,
Althea and Donna,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ronnie Foster,
The Buckinghams,
The Pop Group,
Sällskapet,
Pulsallama,
The Seeds,
Infiniti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Slick Rick,
Pussy Galore,
Symarip,
Al Stewart,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Average White Band,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cure,
Loose Ends,
Archie Shepp,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.