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 Jamaica and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Soulsonic Force to the electroclash 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Sex Pistols,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David Axelrod,
ABBA,
Connie Case,
Ten City,
Nik Kershaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
New Order,
Fear,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jandek,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang of Four,
Funky Four + One,
Piero Umiliani,
Judy Mowatt,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gong,
F. McDonald,
Ossler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sarah Menescal,
The Red Krayola,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Skatalites,
kango's stein massive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kayak,
The Selecter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Morten Harket,
Pussy Galore,
Basic Channel,
Wasted Youth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pagans,
Easy Going,
Scion,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Agitation Free,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David McCallum,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Young Rascals,
Banda Bassotti,
Intrusion,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Moon,
Inner City,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pantytec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantaleimon,
Subhumans,
Mad Mike,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Kinks,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.