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 Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Fad Gadget to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
Susan Cadogan,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maleditus Sound,
Pantaleimon,
Moebius,
Fad Gadget,
Minny Pops,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Wings,
Mars,
Whodini,
Skaos,
Todd Rundgren,
Max Romeo,
Bluetip,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
AZ,
Josef K,
Warsaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Inner City,
Essential Logic,
The Grass Roots,
Camouflage,
Minutemen,
EPMD,
In Retrospect,
Erykah Badu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Underground Resistance,
The Victims,
Simply Red,
Cymande,
Roger Hodgson,
Wasted Youth,
Neu!,
Lou Christie,
Procol Harum,
CMW,
Hardrive,
Deakin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Neil Young,
Fatback Band,
Unwound,
Gang Gang Dance,
Organ,
Supertramp,
John Holt,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.