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 Djibouti and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Mr. Review 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
E-Dancer,
Nico,
Sugar Minott,
Freddie Wadling,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wings,
Siglo XX,
Niagra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flash Fearless,
Glenn Branca,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Almond,
Los Fastidios,
Con Funk Shun,
Lucky Dragons,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brand Nubian,
Tubeway Army,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
June Days,
Accadde A,
Vladislav Delay,
Negative Approach,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lindisfarne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang of Four,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Drive Like Jehu,
Trumans Water,
The Buckinghams,
Connie Case,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Babytalk,
Jerry's Kids,
Faraquet,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy Collins,
Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
Juan Atkins,
Aural Exciters,
Hoover,
Cluster,
H. Thieme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rakim,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jandek,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Wells,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Smiths,
Hardrive,
The Moody Blues,
The Divine Comedy,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.