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 United States and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Grandmaster Flash to the rap 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Brass Construction,
Khruangbin,
Pylon,
Second Layer,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marvin Gaye,
Brand Nubian,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxy Music,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Hood,
R.M.O.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bush Tetras,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Sneak,
Simply Red,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Susan Cadogan,
Sparks,
Dual Sessions,
Electric Prunes,
Average White Band,
Parry Music,
The New Christs,
Joe Finger,
Harry Pussy,
Danielle Patucci,
Rekid,
Negative Approach,
Crash Course in Science,
The Birthday Party,
Ultimate Spinach,
Quadrant,
Skarface,
the Swans,
Soft Cell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Misunderstood,
Whodini,
Country Teasers,
Eurythmics,
Thee Headcoats,
Clear Light,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
Youth Brigade,
John Cale,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.