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 Kuwait and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Faraquet to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Pussy Galore,
The Human League,
Scrapy,
Andrew Hill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alison Limerick,
Man Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
Loose Ends,
Khruangbin,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Smooth,
The Detroit Cobras,
KRS-One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Saints,
Sparks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yellowson,
Barbara Tucker,
Pylon,
Moebius,
Wally Richardson,
Second Layer,
Black Bananas,
The Remains,
MC5,
X-101,
Television Personalities,
Marvin Gaye,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oblivians,
Nick Fraelich,
Ludus,
The Skatalites,
Swans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rekid,
Los Fastidios,
Steve Hackett,
The Buckinghams,
Masters at Work,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tim Buckley,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Starr,
The Gap Band,
Hot Snakes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deakin,
Bronski Beat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harry Pussy,
The Litter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.