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 Azerbaijan and from Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 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 Lindisfarne to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dirtbombs,
H. Thieme,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Electric Prunes,
The Pretty Things,
This Heat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Remains,
The Pop Group,
Urselle,
Judy Mowatt,
Index,
The Star Department,
UT,
Zapp,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sandy B,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gap Band,
Thompson Twins,
Alison Limerick,
Cameo,
Ornette Coleman,
Subhumans,
Au Pairs,
Lakeside,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fugazi,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
EPMD,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Hood,
Roxette,
Gabor Szabo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sixth Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Donald Byrd,
Pagans,
Clear Light,
Joe Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
The Raincoats,
Grey Daturas,
Vladislav Delay,
Suicide,
Cymande,
Janne Schatter,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cowsills,
Bob Dylan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hasil Adkins,
Warren Ellis,
Masters at Work,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.