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 Somalia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 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 Wally Richardson to the funk 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Goldenarms,
Skriet,
Rotary Connection,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cymande,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Techniques,
Aural Exciters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Davy DMX,
Ten City,
Howard Jones,
Joey Negro,
New Age Steppers,
The Associates,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fatback Band,
Rites of Spring,
Roxy Music,
Porter Ricks,
Barry Ungar,
Funkadelic,
Tommy Roe,
Black Sheep,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Anakelly,
Main Source,
Pussy Galore,
Sixth Finger,
Gichy Dan,
Franke,
John Lydon,
Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Smoke,
Moby Grape,
Wolf Eyes,
Ronan,
Curtis Mayfield,
R.M.O.,
Sällskapet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Moon,
The Walker Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dirtbombs,
The Smiths,
The Monks,
B.T. Express,
Dorothy Ashby,
Inner City,
Henry Cow,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.