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 Ethiopia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The New Christs,
The Moody Blues,
Gang of Four,
Livin' Joy,
Urselle,
Mandrill,
Audionom,
Scan 7,
Masters at Work,
Sun City Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Khruangbin,
Tubeway Army,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deakin,
The Young Rascals,
JFA,
Excepter,
Darondo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sam Rivers,
X-102,
Whodini,
Gregory Isaacs,
Porter Ricks,
The Knickerbockers,
Cluster,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deepchord,
Public Enemy,
Wolf Eyes,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
Fear,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Prince Buster,
Radiopuhelimet,
Negative Approach,
Interpol,
Susan Cadogan,
PIL,
The Wake,
Mr. Review,
The Mummies,
Ohio Players,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gun Club,
Animal Collective,
Radio Birdman,
Jerry's Kids,
Hoover,
Morten Harket,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lyres,
The Durutti Column,
The Grass Roots,
The Gories,
The Doors,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.