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 Spain and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 DNA to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
The Last Poets,
Fela Kuti,
CMW,
Minny Pops,
Country Teasers,
Minor Threat,
The Five Americans,
FM Einheit,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wire,
Yusef Lateef,
DNA,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deadbeat,
Bad Manners,
Scan 7,
The Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Doors,
Idris Muhammad,
Piero Umiliani,
The Human League,
EPMD,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stiv Bators,
U.S. Maple,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cymande,
Los Fastidios,
Clear Light,
The Detroit Cobras,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Icehouse,
Depeche Mode,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed,
Organ,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
10cc,
Colin Newman,
Kerri Chandler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare,
Rapeman,
Gabor Szabo,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Womack,
The Moody Blues,
Slick Rick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Angry Samoans,
The Saints,
Sister Nancy,
Grauzone,
John Cale,
Young Marble Giants,
Liliput,
The Mummies,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.