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 Turkey and from London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cecil Taylor to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Deakin,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Pus,
Nico,
Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DNA,
Camouflage,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Sonics,
the Human League,
Section 25,
The Saints,
Sandy B,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
kango's stein massive,
Cluster,
Dead Boys,
Little Man,
Sister Nancy,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sonics,
One Last Wish,
The Modern Lovers,
the Soft Cell,
The Gap Band,
Davy DMX,
Hot Snakes,
Tommy Roe,
The Grass Roots,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Holt,
Agent Orange,
Fad Gadget,
Echospace,
Talk Talk,
Pole,
Ponytail,
Fugazi,
10cc,
Barbara Tucker,
Shoche,
Harmonia,
Make Up,
Susan Cadogan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bang On A Can,
Pagans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Green,
Carl Craig,
Mad Mike,
Scientists,
EPMD,
The Slackers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Goldenarms,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.