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 France and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron 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 Pulsallama to the grime 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
John Lydon,
Fad Gadget,
Jacob Miller,
The Real Kids,
Alton Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
CMW,
the Germs,
Skarface,
Pierre Henry,
Dark Day,
Al Stewart,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cowsills,
Sam Rivers,
Yazoo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Sheep,
Buzzcocks,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fugs,
Harry Pussy,
Morten Harket,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pagans,
John Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Sonic Youth,
Ituana,
Jesper Dahlback,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bush Tetras,
These Immortal Souls,
E-Dancer,
Rapeman,
Interpol,
Supertramp,
Bobby Sherman,
Bob Dylan,
Surgeon,
Panda Bear,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Graham Central Station,
June Days,
Soft Machine,
David Bowie,
Make Up,
ABBA,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pere Ubu,
Michelle Simonal,
Livin' Joy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Blossom Toes,
The Tremeloes,
The Red Krayola,
Kaleidoscope,
AZ,
Barry Ungar,
Little Man,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.