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 Kosovo and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
June Days,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glenn Branca,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Robert Wyatt,
Ice-T,
Das Ding,
Scott Walker,
Jawbox,
R.M.O.,
Johnny Clarke,
the Swans,
The Zeros,
Colin Newman,
Wasted Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barbara Tucker,
Livin' Joy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Stooges,
Slick Rick,
Lou Christie,
D'Angelo,
Toni Rubio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Pus,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Wings,
Bobby Womack,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
K-Klass,
Peter and Kerry,
Eli Mardock,
Schoolly D,
Roxette,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Excepter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Television,
Stereo Dub,
the Human League,
Spoonie Gee,
Brass Construction,
Harmonia,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
48th St. Collective,
CMW,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Byrd,
World's Most,
The Slits,
Popol Vuh,
The Dirtbombs,
Roger Hodgson,
Can,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.