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 Pakistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grunge 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Victims,
The Black Dice,
Schoolly D,
Sam Rivers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Five Americans,
Bob Dylan,
The Smiths,
Colin Newman,
Negative Approach,
The Cowsills,
World's Most,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sixth Finger,
Pantytec,
Sun Ra,
E-Dancer,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Buzzcocks,
Lyres,
Kool Moe Dee,
JFA,
Isaac Hayes,
Todd Terry,
The Toasters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
UT,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Make Up,
Liliput,
F. McDonald,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blake Baxter,
Depeche Mode,
Guru Guru,
Pussy Galore,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
Stetsasonic,
The Misunderstood,
Scratch Acid,
Kerri Chandler,
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
Stereo Dub,
Whodini,
Mo-Dettes,
Suicide,
Sister Nancy,
Malaria!,
The Blackbyrds,
Nas,
Tim Buckley,
Royal Trux,
Godley & Creme,
The J.B.'s,
Massinfluence,
New Order,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.