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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Bronski Beat,
Eden Ahbez,
Groovy Waters,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
Connie Case,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kaleidoscope,
Main Source,
Mission of Burma,
Tim Buckley,
Slave,
Oneida,
Ronnie Foster,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Althea and Donna,
Eli Mardock,
The Residents,
Scott Walker,
Neil Young,
Index,
Rapeman,
Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
Todd Rundgren,
Danielle Patucci,
Juan Atkins,
Radio Birdman,
The Smiths,
Agitation Free,
MC5,
Barry Ungar,
The Pop Group,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Gun Club,
Franke,
Brothers Johnson,
Average White Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Chris Corsano,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Human League,
Underground Resistance,
The Sound,
The Victims,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cymande,
The Cowsills,
Spoonie Gee,
Pulsallama,
Skarface,
The Velvet Underground,
Arthur Verocai,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.