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 Ghana and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Tres Demented,
Gang Green,
The Motions,
Soft Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Angry Samoans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
48th St. Collective,
Bob Dylan,
ABBA,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Soul II Soul,
Johnny Clarke,
Brand Nubian,
Don Cherry,
DJ Sneak,
The Leaves,
Sex Pistols,
Peter and Kerry,
The Last Poets,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Todd Terry,
Icehouse,
The Blues Magoos,
Sällskapet,
Terry Callier,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wolf Eyes,
Josef K,
Fatback Band,
U.S. Maple,
The Black Dice,
Trumans Water,
Zapp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Severed Heads,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soulsonic Force,
Neil Young,
Moby Grape,
Donny Hathaway,
Flamin' Groovies,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Von Mondo,
Rosa Yemen,
Althea and Donna,
Urselle,
Nick Fraelich,
Skaos,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
These Immortal Souls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Boredoms,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.