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 Armenia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Toasters to the rock 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Warren Ellis,
Model 500,
Glenn Branca,
Traffic Nightmare,
Byron Stingily,
James White and The Blacks,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Qualms,
The Smoke,
Nico,
Althea and Donna,
DJ Style,
Dennis Brown,
Gang of Four,
The Fall,
Liliput,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sight & Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
Zapp,
David Axelrod,
The Red Krayola,
Bob Dylan,
The Young Rascals,
Rites of Spring,
Siglo XX,
Darondo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fugazi,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Swell Maps,
Soulsonic Force,
Interpol,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Erykah Badu,
Godley & Creme,
Black Flag,
The Index,
Index,
Aloha Tigers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Heaven 17,
Bill Near,
Black Moon,
Radiohead,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Selecter,
La Düsseldorf,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
World's Most,
Little Man,
Bronski Beat,
Henry Cow,
Dawn Penn,
New York Dolls,
Drexciya,
Minnie Riperton,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dorothy Ashby,
Au Pairs,
Slick Rick,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.