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 Romania and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Mission of Burma to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pagans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Von Mondo,
Alphaville,
Schoolly D,
Tres Demented,
Subhumans,
Bronski Beat,
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
Parry Music,
Fatback Band,
Carl Craig,
Gang Green,
Todd Terry,
Ohio Players,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-102,
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Derrick Morgan,
Porter Ricks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cecil Taylor,
June of 44,
Soulsonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cure,
Don Cherry,
Loose Ends,
Warsaw,
The Knickerbockers,
Unwound,
Excepter,
The Residents,
The Fall,
Barry Ungar,
Ultra Naté,
Fear,
Wolf Eyes,
Slick Rick,
Scratch Acid,
MC5,
the Fania All-Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tommy Roe,
Make Up,
Cluster,
Cheater Slicks,
The Remains,
The Angels of Light,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roxy Music,
Black Moon,
Oneida,
Eden Ahbez,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.