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 El Salvador and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sam Rivers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
The Dirtbombs,
Morten Harket,
The Fugs,
Fugazi,
Archie Shepp,
Skriet,
Bobby Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Crash Course in Science,
Smog,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Procol Harum,
The Moleskins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sparks,
Howard Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Techniques,
Leonard Cohen,
Quadrant,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suicide,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sam Rivers,
Swell Maps,
Negative Approach,
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marine Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Searchers,
Lalo Schifrin,
L. Decosne,
These Immortal Souls,
Scott Walker,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Mills,
Bad Manners,
DJ Sneak,
Boredoms,
The Sound,
The Move,
Q65,
Minnie Riperton,
Television,
The Velvet Underground,
The Last Poets,
Iggy Pop,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Royal Trux,
Symarip,
Marvin Gaye,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.