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 Kiribati and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge 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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Lydon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brick,
Grey Daturas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rod Modell,
Henry Cow,
Buzzcocks,
Anthony Braxton,
Skaos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
Junior Murvin,
The Moody Blues,
Barry Ungar,
Camouflage,
Masters at Work,
The Leaves,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soft Cell,
EPMD,
Rekid,
Swell Maps,
The Cramps,
Agent Orange,
Angry Samoans,
Pole,
Clear Light,
David McCallum,
Amon Düül II,
Gabor Szabo,
Donald Byrd,
Ohio Players,
Kurtis Blow,
Slave,
Nirvana,
Au Pairs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oneida,
Isaac Hayes,
The Martian,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lalann,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eurythmics,
Big Daddy Kane,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
Fear,
The American Breed,
Charles Mingus,
Heaven 17,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deepchord,
Crispian St. Peters,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.