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 Macedonia and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the rock 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Sixth Finger,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moby Grape,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Los Fastidios,
Quantec,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mission of Burma,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Swans,
Trumans Water,
Crispian St. Peters,
AZ,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stereo Dub,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxette,
The Toasters,
Piero Umiliani,
Essential Logic,
Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
Blancmange,
New York Dolls,
Hot Snakes,
Alison Limerick,
John Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Surgeon,
Laurel Aitken,
cv313,
The Cowsills,
Dawn Penn,
Banda Bassotti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Black Dice,
Bauhaus,
The Sonics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joe Finger,
The United States of America,
the Sonics,
Soft Machine,
Rites of Spring,
The Young Rascals,
Stiv Bators,
R.M.O.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minor Threat,
The Kinks,
The Neon Judgement,
Josef K,
Motorama,
Mr. Review,
The Barracudas,
The Five Americans,
a-ha,
Tim Buckley,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.