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 Peru and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deepchord to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Max Romeo,
Metal Thangz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ronnie Foster,
Hashim,
Model 500,
Zero Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
Carl Craig,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Swans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flipper,
The Moleskins,
Quantec,
Magma,
Susan Cadogan,
Glenn Branca,
Parry Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Absolute Body Control,
Niagra,
The Gun Club,
Vainqueur,
Neu!,
the Association,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Connie Case,
X-102,
Heaven 17,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joe Smooth,
Idris Muhammad,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
Fat Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Monolake,
Boredoms,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Lydon,
Gang of Four,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The United States of America,
Cluster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.