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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Faraquet to the disco 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
Bill Near,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aloha Tigers,
ABC,
Bauhaus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grey Daturas,
Magazine,
Gang of Four,
Idris Muhammad,
The Beau Brummels,
Roxette,
Amon Düül,
Brand Nubian,
Visage,
Marc Almond,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Offenders,
cv313,
Quadrant,
Bobby Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
The Young Rascals,
Drexciya,
Surgeon,
Peter and Kerry,
Scratch Acid,
Aural Exciters,
Kas Product,
the Association,
Gerry Rafferty,
Danielle Patucci,
Suburban Knight,
Pierre Henry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
The Mojo Men,
X-101,
Fat Boys,
The Cure,
Sun City Girls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Cramps,
Technova,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Index,
The Black Dice,
Byron Stingily,
Sound Behaviour,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pagans,
Scan 7,
Babytalk,
Smog,
Judy Mowatt,
Unrelated Segments,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.