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 Uruguay and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mandrill to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Five Americans,
Scratch Acid,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Clear Light,
Amazonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABBA,
Glenn Branca,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pole,
Dennis Brown,
Drexciya,
Jawbox,
cv313,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Mills,
Tears for Fears,
Kayak,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Circle Jerks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T.S.O.L.,
CMW,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Flag,
L. Decosne,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun Ra,
Bluetip,
The Smiths,
Mr. Review,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agent Orange,
Ossler,
Funky Four + One,
The Electric Prunes,
Sight & Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Darondo,
Joe Finger,
Silicon Teens,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alice Coltrane,
Anthony Braxton,
Prince Buster,
Lower 48,
Ten City,
The Doors,
The Wake,
Youth Brigade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thompson Twins,
Fela Kuti,
Leonard Cohen,
The Angels of Light,
The Young Rascals,
Camouflage,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.