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 Kiribati 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ten 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Soft Machine,
Excepter,
Camberwell Now,
One Last Wish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultra Naté,
The Gun Club,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bronski Beat,
A Certain Ratio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bob Dylan,
Lalann,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Negative Approach,
Warsaw,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wasted Youth,
The Victims,
Bootsy Collins,
Animal Collective,
Oneida,
Joensuu 1685,
Rites of Spring,
Jawbox,
Thee Headcoats,
Gerry Rafferty,
Patti Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
Toni Rubio,
Lee Hazlewood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marcia Griffiths,
Infiniti,
Mars,
Bluetip,
Buzzcocks,
Bauhaus,
Dual Sessions,
David Axelrod,
The Tremeloes,
Rapeman,
Jeff Lynne,
Tears for Fears,
the Association,
Fugazi,
Inner City,
Bobby Sherman,
Ohio Players,
The Moleskins,
Soul II Soul,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick Morgan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Funky Four + One,
E-Dancer,
Mandrill,
Depeche Mode,
Boz Scaggs,
Young Marble Giants,
Stereo Dub,
Brothers Johnson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.