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 Canada and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Inner City to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Banda Bassotti,
Blake Baxter,
Graham Central Station,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
Albert Ayler,
Cecil Taylor,
Camberwell Now,
Aural Exciters,
Quadrant,
Mad Mike,
Black Sheep,
Suicide,
Nirvana,
Ronan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nick Fraelich,
Bluetip,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Minny Pops,
The Toasters,
48th St. Collective,
La Düsseldorf,
Franke,
Parry Music,
Michelle Simonal,
Jacob Miller,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sun Ra,
kango's stein massive,
Arcadia,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sunsets and Hearts,
One Last Wish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
Circle Jerks,
The Invisible,
Angry Samoans,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Guru Guru,
Smog,
Shoche,
June of 44,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Al Stewart,
The Modern Lovers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The American Breed,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lindisfarne,
ABC,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.