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 Paraguay and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Remains to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Zapp,
Robert Wyatt,
DJ Sneak,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Laurel Aitken,
Malaria!,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crooked Eye,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Coltrane,
Tears for Fears,
The Victims,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stereo Dub,
One Last Wish,
Parry Music,
The Doobie Brothers,
Minutemen,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moby Grape,
Second Layer,
Amon Düül II,
Rufus Thomas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Trumans Water,
Byron Stingily,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Los Fastidios,
Brick,
Fela Kuti,
The Black Dice,
Reagan Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Radio Birdman,
Idris Muhammad,
The Modern Lovers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blues Magoos,
Amazonics,
Black Flag,
Bang On A Can,
Cluster,
Groovy Waters,
Boredoms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Wake,
Swans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
F. McDonald,
Jimmy McGriff,
Althea and Donna,
The Kinks,
the Normal,
Godley & Creme,
Subhumans,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.