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 Bulgaria and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Angry Samoans to the rap 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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Certain Ratio,
Reagan Youth,
Ten City,
The Neon Judgement,
Soulsonic Force,
Lucky Dragons,
Robert Wyatt,
The Pretty Things,
Ken Boothe,
Monolake,
Lee Hazlewood,
Parry Music,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Searchers,
The New Christs,
Oneida,
Jacques Brel,
Junior Murvin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Offenders,
Jerry's Kids,
Guru Guru,
Yazoo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Angels of Light,
The Fortunes,
Aswad,
Brass Construction,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Young Rascals,
Matthew Bourne,
David Axelrod,
Roy Ayers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Mummies,
Shoche,
Lakeside,
Sugar Minott,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Womack,
The Blues Magoos,
Visage,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Don Cherry,
Crash Course in Science,
Boredoms,
Procol Harum,
Crime,
Dawn Penn,
Massinfluence,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Sight & Sound,
New York Dolls,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.