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 Swaziland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Buzzcocks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
F. McDonald,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Peter and Kerry,
Idris Muhammad,
The J.B.'s,
Maurizio,
Whodini,
Banda Bassotti,
Parry Music,
L. Decosne,
Sugar Minott,
Ossler,
Deepchord,
Johnny Clarke,
Charles Mingus,
Bill Wells,
Morten Harket,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Normal,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Motorama,
Minny Pops,
Sun Ra,
Pussy Galore,
Alton Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Das Ding,
Rosa Yemen,
The Wake,
Eve St. Jones,
Panda Bear,
The Residents,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young,
Eden Ahbez,
The Real Kids,
Mad Mike,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
Davy DMX,
Niagra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
ABC,
FM Einheit,
Oneida,
Intrusion,
Mandrill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Green,
DJ Style,
John Holt,
Loose Ends,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nico,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.