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 Colombia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Tom Verlaine 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 rap 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Sun Ra,
Sandy B,
Bauhaus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Godley & Creme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Young Rascals,
Yusef Lateef,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
Quadrant,
Aaron Thompson,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Swans,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
Joe Smooth,
Khruangbin,
Talk Talk,
Be Bop Deluxe,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cowsills,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Selecter,
Supertramp,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eli Mardock,
Siglo XX,
Moby Grape,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pantaleimon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pulsallama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marine Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thompson Twins,
ABC,
Matthew Bourne,
The Knickerbockers,
Sound Behaviour,
Little Man,
Lou Christie,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fuzztones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brass Construction,
Tres Demented,
Accadde A,
Carl Craig,
F. McDonald,
The Modern Lovers,
The Monks,
Desert Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Mantronix,
Popol Vuh,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.