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 Jordan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dennis Brown to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
EPMD,
Black Pus,
Carl Craig,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Index,
Motorama,
Chrome,
Tom Boy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Porter Ricks,
Organ,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bang On A Can,
The Residents,
Quando Quango,
Underground Resistance,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Tears for Fears,
Lungfish,
10cc,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Offenders,
the Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Magazine,
Nik Kershaw,
Nils Olav,
The Gun Club,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fad Gadget,
Radiopuhelimet,
Matthew Halsall,
Unrelated Segments,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The American Breed,
Jeff Lynne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fugs,
the Slits,
Ossler,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Skriet,
Derrick May,
Harmonia,
Trumans Water,
Crispian St. Peters,
Charles Mingus,
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kayak,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brand Nubian,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.