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 Serbia and from Milan.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Flash Fearless,
The Golliwogs,
Vainqueur,
Barry Ungar,
Animal Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
cv313,
The Fire Engines,
Delon & Dalcan,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gap Band,
Brand Nubian,
Derrick Morgan,
Ice-T,
Eli Mardock,
Absolute Body Control,
The Modern Lovers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Starr,
Ralphi Rosario,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maleditus Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ken Boothe,
The Cramps,
The Blues Magoos,
Warsaw,
Zapp,
Chris Corsano,
Scott Walker,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cowsills,
Eric Dolphy,
June of 44,
Panda Bear,
Nirvana,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Slackers,
The New Christs,
OOIOO,
Heaven 17,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeff Mills,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pierre Henry,
Ituana,
Wally Richardson,
T.S.O.L.,
Half Japanese,
Sly & The Family Stone,
LL Cool J,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Sneak,
The Martian,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.