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 Sierra Leone and from Mexico City.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bad Manners to the techno 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
World's Most,
Mission of Burma,
AZ,
Derrick Morgan,
Camberwell Now,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quando Quango,
Lungfish,
Bobby Sherman,
L. Decosne,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare,
Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Matthew Bourne,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy Collins,
Oneida,
Lakeside,
Gong,
Hot Snakes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Young Rascals,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sixth Finger,
Flipper,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slave,
Maurizio,
Marine Girls,
Wire,
Skaos,
Symarip,
Man Parrish,
Junior Murvin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New York Dolls,
Rod Modell,
T. Rex,
Barry Ungar,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shoche,
the Slits,
Fatback Band,
Metal Thangz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Whodini,
Alice Coltrane,
Kenny Larkin,
The Searchers,
The Cowsills,
Au Pairs,
The Selecter,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
Kevin Saunderson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.