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 Marshall Islands and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the electroclash 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crooked Eye,
Liliput,
Ten City,
Popol Vuh,
Negative Approach,
Loose Ends,
John Lydon,
Severed Heads,
The Zeros,
The Fuzztones,
Ultra Naté,
Basic Channel,
The Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Mandrill,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brothers Johnson,
Japan,
The Move,
Eden Ahbez,
Adolescents,
Brand Nubian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aswad,
Todd Terry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fad Gadget,
Monks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Symarip,
Rakim,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slave,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Smiths,
Pere Ubu,
Yusef Lateef,
The Remains,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bauhaus,
Smog,
Outsiders,
EPMD,
Erykah Badu,
Josef K,
James White and The Blacks,
These Immortal Souls,
Jerry's Kids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Motorama,
Moss Icon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The New Christs,
Make Up,
The United States of America,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.