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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Seoul.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Royal Trux to the grunge 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Porter Ricks,
Bill Near,
Lungfish,
The Count Five,
Mission of Burma,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camouflage,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joy Division,
Nick Fraelich,
LL Cool J,
Lindisfarne,
Public Enemy,
Toni Rubio,
Magazine,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Womack,
Suicide,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fatback Band,
Zero Boys,
Arcadia,
Fad Gadget,
Wally Richardson,
Ossler,
Rites of Spring,
Royal Trux,
Loose Ends,
Khruangbin,
Tubeway Army,
Gerry Rafferty,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arab on Radar,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vladislav Delay,
Hardrive,
Jerry's Kids,
Kerri Chandler,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dark Day,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
Audionom,
Eden Ahbez,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scan 7,
Dawn Penn,
Flash Fearless,
Magma,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Trumans Water,
Bill Wells,
Sam Rivers,
Kurtis Blow,
Ohio Players,
Section 25,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Man Parrish,
Black Sheep,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.