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 Mauritius and from Seoul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Khruangbin 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Eurythmics,
The Searchers,
Yaz,
New Order,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed,
Kaleidoscope,
Angry Samoans,
Toni Rubio,
Cymande,
Royal Trux,
Max Romeo,
Robert Wyatt,
The Star Department,
MDC,
Pole,
Barrington Levy,
Unwound,
Echospace,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultravox,
Fad Gadget,
Sound Behaviour,
Malaria!,
LL Cool J,
the Slits,
The Tremeloes,
Wings,
The Gladiators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Enemy,
The Offenders,
Jawbox,
Little Man,
Minny Pops,
Patti Smith,
The Buckinghams,
Tres Demented,
Ohio Players,
Amon Düül II,
X-102,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Yellowson,
Blake Baxter,
Oblivians,
The American Breed,
Quando Quango,
Ken Boothe,
Andrew Hill,
Crash Course in Science,
Franke,
Blancmange,
Harmonia,
The Smoke,
Eric Dolphy,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.