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 Belgium and from New York.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Fugs 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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
The Doors,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Pretty Things,
Ossler,
Radio Birdman,
Youth Brigade,
Magazine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Circle Jerks,
The Electric Prunes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Count Five,
Gang of Four,
Kas Product,
Lucky Dragons,
The Residents,
Spoonie Gee,
Brick,
Neil Young,
Jawbox,
The Busters,
Robert Hood,
Shoche,
Donald Byrd,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Parry Music,
Easy Going,
Animal Collective,
Funkadelic,
Juan Atkins,
The Litter,
Tim Buckley,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Andrew Hill,
John Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Victims,
The Black Dice,
Slick Rick,
Minutemen,
The Motions,
LL Cool J,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sister Nancy,
Sam Rivers,
The Skatalites,
Marvin Gaye,
Ten City,
The Martian,
The Mummies,
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moody Blues,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tres Demented,
Jacques Brel,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.