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 Ghana and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the jazz 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Bob Dylan,
Alice Coltrane,
China Crisis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Country Teasers,
X-102,
Laurel Aitken,
Silicon Teens,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
EPMD,
Minor Threat,
The Moleskins,
Terry Callier,
The Selecter,
Whodini,
Sixth Finger,
The Mummies,
Zapp,
Reuben Wilson,
Brand Nubian,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
Howard Jones,
The Slits,
The Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Absolute Body Control,
Nils Olav,
Japan,
Essential Logic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Banda Bassotti,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rekid,
Nas,
FM Einheit,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Doors,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Human League,
X-101,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Michelle Simonal,
Frankie Knuckles,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Khruangbin,
Gichy Dan,
Roxy Music,
Anthony Braxton,
Eden Ahbez,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Seeds,
David Bowie,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Evens,
The Fire Engines,
U.S. Maple,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.