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 Estonia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
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 arpeggiator 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 Skarface to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Arcadia,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Görl,
Boz Scaggs,
The Martian,
Heaven 17,
Monks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Kinks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
the Association,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
CMW,
Anakelly,
Amazonics,
Young Marble Giants,
Slave,
Moebius,
Kerrie Biddell,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Smiths,
Vladislav Delay,
The Litter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Moon,
Electric Prunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nas,
Kenny Larkin,
Tim Buckley,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cheater Slicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Shoche,
The Young Rascals,
Surgeon,
Das Ding,
The Music Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tubeway Army,
Pussy Galore,
Quadrant,
Oneida,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Misunderstood,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sex Pistols,
Nils Olav,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Index,
Massinfluence,
Rhythm & Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Magma,
The Fuzztones,
Silicon Teens,
MC5,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.